


Feral

by SniperAnon (The_Big_Reveal)



Series: Feral Verse [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Anakin not understanding the word 'no', Anakin’s bulletproof faith in his friends rears its heartwarming yet ugly head, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Animalistic Obi-Wan, BAMF Obi-Wan Kenobi, Blood Magic, Blood and Gore, Blow Jobs, Body Horror, Body Worship, Bottom Obi-Wan Kenobi, Brain Damage, Cannibalism, Dubious Consent, Enthusiastic Consent, Eventual Happy Ending, Extremely liberal interpretation of 'fixed', Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Grief/Mourning, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, Humor, Implied/Referenced Mind Break, Implied/Referenced Torture, Jedi Culture Respected, Loss of Identity, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Memory Loss, Mental Health Issues, Much Ado About Pretty Men, Mutual Pining, Mystery, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Mess, Obi-Wan bangs every interested clone, Obi-Wan's clone harem, Realistically Maladjusted Anakin Skywalker, Recovery, Rex puts up with so much bullshit bless him, Self-Indulgent, Sith Rituals, Smut, The Fic What Ate My Brain, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Uncanny Valley, Who killed Obi-Wan with a candlestick, a fic of extremes mayhap, but not truly darkfic, clone culture, come and get ya smut!, dark themes, do not copy to another site, do not copy to another site I'm dead serious fam, does this deserve a major character death warning if they are still technically alive, original clone character(s) - Freeform, shamelessly translating fandom memes into fic form, the aesthetics of sleep, this is a sexy horror fic I guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2020-12-24 11:21:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 41,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21098639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Big_Reveal/pseuds/SniperAnon
Summary: Based off the plunnie by Norcumi & Dogmatix https://norcumii.tumblr.com/post/187323085912/feralkenobi-plunnieGeneral Kenobi is not himself after months of being MIA. He’s feral, deadly, terrifying and beautiful. Rex can’t seem to look away.OR: Being the moral compass for someone else makes Anakin grow up REAL fast (but does little good for his sanity).





	1. Found

**Author's Note:**

  * For [norcumi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/norcumi/gifts), [dogmatix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogmatix/gifts).
**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Obi-Wan is found.
> 
> CITRUS SCALE: 3/10

**Rex**

_He feels weird._

That’s the only description Skywalker could manage. Weird. Obi-Wan missed every check-in on a recon well below his pay grade, the 212th had no clue where he went, and his telepathic impression _ ‘felt weird.’ _ Rex immediately suspected that there was a lot more to ‘weird’ than he let on. Because what the frip did that even _ mean? _ Weird _ how? _

_ I don’t know. Just… weird. _

All the brothers had picked up on enough secondhand Force poodoo to know that telepathy got foggier with distance. Obi-Wan’s mind felt “weird” enough that Skywalker could tell from light years away? Bad kriffing news. So, when Rex wasn’t in the middle of handling the absolute FUBAR siege they were stuck in or passing out from adrenaline crash, he was lying awake worrying. Cody was doing worse. Rex may have been able to trust Obi-Wan, forget about it, focus on his job if it weren’t for Skywalker’s grim, concerned frown whenever he wasn’t similarly laid up or riding a battle high. Rex could tell his General wasn’t saying something and it made him want to shred all of the man's shoes.

The bastard failed to elaborate, though not from a lack of prompting. Jedi, even Skywalker, liked to pretend Force shit was beyond mortal ken. But Rex wasn’t kriffing stupid. He could comprehend basic descriptions and did in fact possess an imagination. Rex would appreciate having _ any _ idea what was going on with Kenobi. Even a diagram drawn in goddamn crayon. 

Skywalker’s fellow Jedi also knew something was up judging by the long looks they gave him any time he reported Obi-Wan’s unchanged "weirdness." Skywalker didn’t even bother to faff convincingly. But the stubbornly tight lip remained, and nobody knew what to do with "weird." The lack of apparent urgency also meant that hunting the Jedi Master’s ass down could wait.

At least he didn’t feel dead. Weird was an improvement over dead, and sure as shit better than pained or afraid. Rex could handle weird. 

The worst part was that he was unsure whether he should be scared or not yet. He didn’t want to wake up one of these days, after sitting on his thumb for _ months,_ to learn that Obi-Wan was… 

The dread wasn’t a sucking chest wound, not yet, but settled on the draining anxiety of _maybe._ He’d be relieved to find out Obi-Wan just got kidnapped like any another kriffing Centaxday. Or, better yet, that the walking disaster just lost his comm and got his dumb ass stranded again. (Please, _ please _ let weird not mean tortured...)

All he could do was sort his own shit out and hope they took him with when Skywalker finally convinced command to let them look for their wayward Jedi. 

*******

The planet PXEL-0074 was humid, hot, and overwhelmingly beige. Pretty, though. Refreshingly clean and dry for an oceanside biome. No bogs, no slime. The dominant form of dirt was sand and waterlogged sand and the water was so clear that none of them grumbled much about wading hip deep through the flooded forest they searched. Better yet, they were largely ignored by the fauna. Small schools of silvery fish wove quick as lightning through their legs as if they were simply mobile mangrove-y tree roots. A few kinda-deer with creepily long legs ran from them which implied predators not in evidence. The deafening bug population (mostly) ignored them. Overall a nice change from the average vindictive mudhole they were regularly subjected to. Not a half bad place for General Kenobi to be stranded on. So the brothers couldn’t help but be optimistic as they waded as in Skywalker's wake. 

The only one unmoved by the scenery was General Skywalker. He was too preoccupied, black tunics floating, footsteps slow, gaze swinging like a hound on an uncertain scent. Rex would have been more ill from his own stress if it weren’t for the pervading serenity of the place and his overwhelming relief. This was the planet Skywalker’s Force-dowsing had tracked General Kenobi to. He was _ here! _ They had the _ Resolute _ in orbit and plenty of backup if need be. Chances were that Obi-Wan was ok. Soon they’d find him and Rex could finally get some sleep. But, honestly, the main reason he wasn’t chewing through his blaster was because he was too kriffing sleep deprived to keep the angst up. 

Skywalker led them to a cluster of buildings among the trees that might have been temples or a fancy town built on a platform of cut stone. The buildings were the same beige stone as most everything else on PXEL save for subtly iridescent patterns of glass. Waxer found a submerged staircase out of the water. They toed up them by feel alone with guns and eyes up since there was no way for thirteen armored men to exit water silently. At the top of the steps his General frowned at the surrounding abandoned village (?) and stopped.

“General Skywalker,” Rex prompted after a moment.

Skywalker inhaled sharply, drawn from his thoughts. When he spoke his voice was low, “… He’s here. But he still feels…”

“Sir?”

Skywalker’s mouth thinned, “I can’t tell which building he’s in. Captain, take half and sweep to the right. Stay on comms and check in every five. He still feels wrong, and I don’t want to take any chances.”

_ Wrong. _

Alright then.

Rex’s optimism was nipped right back to an ominous tingle of worry. But he was a professional and only replied with a nod, a sir, and an economical wave of his hand that neatly separated half the team to his side. One of the brothers, bless Echo, had the sense to remind them all that quicksand existed before they parted ways. Rex was only a little resentful and his unease ramped up several degrees but he tried to not think of Obi-Wan buried in quicksand as they searched.

The buildings were all empty beyond what could normally be expected of a hastily abandoned settlement. Barely a stick of furniture left behind which was, ugh, weird. He’d seen enough abandoned towns to know furniture was last on the hierarchy of priorities. At most they found some filthy, long ruined blankets, exactly one crumbling book, half of a nightstand, and maybe four dishes out of the six buildings his team searched. There was so little leftover that he couldn’t decide what the different buildings or their rooms were even meant for. Whoever used to live here didn’t leave in any hurry and clearly never intended to come back. 

It made their search easy because a single glance could clear a room, barring any detritus from cave-ins that blocked easy line of sight. Rex didn’t find it heartening because he couldn’t stop thinking about quicksand. Rex needed to occupy himself by scouring in environments he knew how to handle. All he asked for was one cupboard. At least then he’d feel useful. 

Most importantly, though, they found seppie droid corpses and signs of battle in varying degrees of fresh. But there was no way Kenobi would be taken down by clanker flunkies like them. Rex refused to believe it.

… Theoretically, a powerful Jedi like Obi-Wan could survive in hibernation at the very bottom of a quicksand pit for months. Probably. Hopefully. Fuck, how deep could quicksand go? Rex had no idea, but he worried Obi-Wan could sink deep enough there would be no hope of finding him. What happened to Jedi in long-term hibernation? Would his body remain in stasis, like a carbon freeze, or would he slowly starve to death in an underground grave? Rex had the force sensitivity of a turnip and could walk right by without knowing. (He felt _ wrong _ to Skywalker and _ they might have left him for months in a pit.) _

Rex doesn’t realize he’d separated from his team and spaced out like a shiny until he’s pulled out his comm to ask Skywalker to double check his half of the search with Jedi senses. He was standing in a large domed room, big enough to be a lobby, completely alone. He'd even taken off his bucket off to rub at his tired eyes. Stupid, rookie thing to do. He worried himself to stupidity. He had never been this careless, this sloppy, and he completely deserved to get body slammed to the ground. 

The impact caught him completely off guard. His air woofed out. Even half stunned and caught flat footed Rex knew how to land and twisted to avoid breaking his collarbone. He was a warrior genetically engineered to keep up with Jedi--so he had enough breath left to bite a curse and block a punch on a vambrace despite being hit by what felt like a demolition ball. 

Somewhere in the background he heard his comm crackle _[…. -Rex-…] _

The cloaked shadow above him twisted when Rex twisted, foiled his counter grapple then wrestled out of the next, and Rex ended up prone with the sleemo sitting on him. Rex managed to clamp a gauntlet over a knife wielding fist. His attacker matched an astonishing amount of muscle power despite their slighter frame but Rex had a narrow advantage.

_ […-found something-….] _

He recognized a probably-human male hand which narrowed down exploitable weaknesses. Rex snarled fiendishly when he slapped past his guard and brutally pinched a nerve. The man only endured the abuse for a beat with a sharp gasp before Rex jabbed an elbow into his nose. 

_ […-saber can be rigged to cause explosions-…] _

That iron grip loosened only a fraction. They scrabbled over the knife and Rex managed to force him to fumble. Rex was at no angle to claim it, so it dropped, bounced off his shoulder. Damn thing was sharp enough to make air bleed and managed to nick his unprotected neck. 

_ [... - still don’t know what-…] _

He couldn’t buck the weight off his belly. The fucker was fast, so fast he was a blur, and Rex had no chance to block. He was lucky to have a head hard enough to bear so many blows. 

_ […- Rex?-...] _

The asshole dared to headbutt him and Rex was so pissed that he headbutt the fucker right back without hesitation. He finally had leverage, managed to sit up-- half because he shoved and half because his attacker reeled back and _ laughed _. It was a bright, delighted peal that Rex recognized instantly. Then he was the one reeling, because Obi-Wan Kenobi was beaming and swaying back on his lap, bright red blood dripping from his nose onto his beard and lips, staining his teeth pink. 

Kenobi was rolling out of his lax grip with the impossible agility of a Jedi before Rex could recover. He only thought to grab hold by the time the tatty robe whispered out of reach.

Rex would swan dive off a cliff into a teacup saluting the whole way down if Kenobi asked. Even still it only took a beat before Rex swiped the abandoned knife off the floor and hopped to his feet because he gathered that ‘weirdness’ meant 'friendly as a rancor.' His gut told him he was still in danger and he’d learned well not to ignore it.

They stared in mutual cautious silence, Rex all grim lines and Kenobi predatory. Those blue eyes were animal-flat and he had the demented little smile he got sometimes. Rex licked his lips, reversed his grip on the knife. Those lips widened into a smirk.

Rex was used to seeing that smile when the man dueled lightsabers or when he narrowly escaped death. Or really during any mono y mono with Grievous. Because Obi-Wan genuinely loved fighting and getting a rise out of people, more so than even Rex's reckless General. Seeing that savage delight directed at him was… was weird. 

Everything about Obi-Wan was weird. Galling as it was, Rex understood what Skywalker meant now.

"General?" Rex tried.

Like a light switched off the sexy little smirk vanished and Obi-Wan’s head cocked, the violence of his gaze softening with curiosity. The display might have been cute if it weren’t for how much he still resembled the impersonal malice of a bird of prey. The utter lack of recognition in his gaze was chilling.

"General Kenobi?” Rex rasped, forcing himself to lower the sweaty hand he had wrapped around the knife. That earned a head-cock in the opposite direction, Obi-Wan’s chin tipping down, body leaning closer.

_ He’s listening _. He lowered his voice, dared to whisper intimately, “Obi-Wan?"

The Jedi launched to his feet and began to circle him. Rex was so thrown off by the man’s body language that he had to scramble to keep pace, unwilling to let this mad version of the man he knew have access to his back.

Rex had… watched General Kenobi closely. He knew his mannerisms. Master Kenobi’s body moved deliberately, decisively. Controlled. Graceful. Almost mincing. He had perfect posture. Elegant composure even when drunk off his ass. This version, however, prowled like a jungle cat. His limbs moved with the languid grace that Force-enhanced maneuvers surely had if dialed down to average humanoid speed. Rex had never seen Obi-Wan so relaxed, either, had no idea just how much tension the General carried until it was gone. It was so unlike him that he resembled Ventress more than himself in that moment.

Rex bit back a curse when Obi-Wan ducked low, darted left and in, jabbing with a new knife. It was a gorgeous, dirty maneuver and Rex barely avoided a stab between the plates of his armor by bending and dancing away with a pounding heart. Frip, Ventress only wished she could move like such a dancer. Rex had never seen anyone move like him, ever. 

Rex should have tried a stab of his own, would have normally, and Kenobi knew it. Bloody lips twitched and Kenobi’s hilt flipped along his knuckles in a lazy spin. Rex was painfully hard in his armor, mouth dry, bewildered.

The enterprising little shit dove in for another stab but Rex was damn good at his job even when distracted. He stood his ground, lifted into a small jump so he could punch down with the full weight of his body through his off hand. His fist connected and Obi-Wan yipped, barked a savage laugh then spun away. He was grinning wider than before. Rex was practically hyperventilating. 

_ "Obi-Wan Kenobi!" _ Rex hissed, almost whispered, scandalized. _ Like someone's gonna write us up if they see us. _Obi-Wan straightened into a more familiar drawn-up posture, grinning and bouncing on the balls of his feet, taunting.

Against his better judgement, despite the blood he could feel leaking down his neck and pooling in his bruises, the teasing felt familiar and a part of him relaxed enough to grouse, "Oh, fuck you," and went in for a jab of his own. He could never be comfortable genuinely attempting to _stab_ Obi-Wan, so he used the knife as a feint for the punch he _was_ comfortable delivering to the asshole's jaw. He learned only a moment later that this Obi-Wan kicked like a nerf.

After several exchanges, Obi-Wan with a collection of bruises, Rex with shallow but stinging cuts, Obi-Wan finally caught wise that Rex refused to stab him. A thoughtful look flickered on his face as they danced. Rex couldn’t fully enjoy what was probably one of the most difficult, thrilling fights he’d ever engaged in because _ his dick wouldn't ease off _. 

Kenobi wasn't helping. Unless the Jedi's connection to the force had been disrupted there should have been no way Rex could keep up. Therefore the madman was almost certainly toying with him. And every hit Rex landed earned him a steamy look. He started to make these approving little hums, soft little _ ahh _ 's and _ mmh _'s whenever Rex did anything clever and that godsdamned smile didn't waver. Rex’s skin still crawled with impending danger and the dichotomy of sensuality against killing intent was going to make him lose his kriffing mind--

_ Enough foreplay. _

General Kenobi dropped quick as a shot, swept Rex' s feet out from under him, no mean feat considering he was heavy, musclebound Mandalorian stock. But Rex went down with a cry and he was predictably squashed under an invisible weight like a bug pinned to a board. He didn’t bother looking for the mad Jedi, gave up immediately in favor of lying there, helpless, breathing hard, staring at the ceiling like prey batted and played with by a cat torturing its food. Rex closed his eyes and breathed deeply. _Get it together_, he told himself,_ he stopped bothering with killing blows a while ago. Whatever he wants, it probably isn’t to eat you._ _He may want to frip you, though, and that would be nice._

_ But I think he does. I think he does want to eat me. _ Rex still couldn’t quite see him, but he could hear him, the soft whisper of footfalls tracing slowly around his prone body, circling like a vulture. 

Finally, Obi-Wan moved into view, one leg lifting almost daintily for a moment to straddle Rex's chest. He was between the vee of Kenobi's long legs, one boot by each of his shoulders, the man standing to his full height, hands tucked away in the small of his back. Rex couldn’t stop himself from glancing at his crotch. 

Obi-Wan noticed. He plopped right down on Rex, smiling with twinkling blue-green eyes and slick lips. The friskiness in his face softened the sensation of being regarded by a lizard, but the knife at his throat didn’t let him forget. Despite everything Rex felt himself relaxing again. 

Kenobi leaned in and _ sniffed _ him, nose tracing along Rex's hairline, into the buzzed short hair along his scalp, behind his ear, greedily drawing in his scent, hot breath puffing along his face. 

_" Osik ,"_ Rex wheezed.

Rex gazed unseeing at the ceiling, breath laboring as lips started pressing soft and wet along his temple to his mouth. The bite to his lower lip was gentler than Rex expected after the courtship he just endured.

Before he could kiss back Obi-Wan snuggled his face into Rex's neck, sweet, nuzzling, full body contact with a hand cupping the back of Rex’s neck. That hot mouth opened, and damp breath was the only warning before he got another bite, this time to his neck, hard enough to grind meat and draw a pained groan but the pressure didn’t last long before a long, slow suction replaced the thrill of teeth. Rex must have done something right, because the mad Jedi apparently decided he wanted to roll his crotch along Rex's abdominals too. Rex strained and whined against the invisible hold that had absolutely no give to it. He needed to hold Obi-Wan's hips, to guide him lower, but he could only endure unmoving as Obi-Wan humped his navel through his armor.

Of course, it was only as Rex's eyes rolled back in his head that Skywalker and the boys burst onto the scene. Skywalker took one look at the knife poised over Rex's neck and yelled before Force-swatting his master into a wall. 

*******

Rex didn't blame the brothers for fussing over him. He probably looked as rattled as he felt, though they (hopefully) didn't know the half of it. They pulled him off the floor and clasped his shoulder, asked if he was okay, told him kindly that the General will be ok, that they'll sort him out. Rex didn't think that this was something that they could 'sort out' but he was not about to correct them. 

Skywalker treated him to a rapid-fire interrogation after examining the sour, haughty look on General Kenobi who was squashed against the wall three feet above the ground. 

"Why's he bleeding?" 

"Got 'im in the nose, sir."

That, thankfully, earned him a quick smirk.

"You ok?"

"I'm fine, sir. Only shallow scratches, sir."

"He attacked you?" 

"Yes, sir. He seemed more interested in testing me,” _ playing with me, definitely _ playing _ in every sense of the word, _ “than killing me."

"... Hm. Kix, make sure Rex isn't bleeding out."

Then he and Kenobi set to a staring contest, unmoving. Rex ducked his head and dutifully subjected himself to Kix. Without a word the medic guided him off to the side and all but shoved him to sit on a pile of rubble. He made sure to look anywhere but at Kenobi, put his back to the tableau behind him and closed his eyes to breathe in peace. 

Kix misinterpreted his reticence too, observed the avoidance and charitably murmured, “I don't blame you. I couldn’t imagine having to fight either of our Jedi." 

Rex cracked open an eye. Thought about it. Decided to give him an honest answer because he could trust Kix. Someone with a lick of sense needed to know, and Rex couldn’t think of a better vector to spread a warning to the vode than the team medic. Thankfully General Skywalker was busy in lala land with General Kenobi.

"Oh, it's not that at all," Rex replied flippantly, "I've sparred with both." 

Kix's gaze flicked up from the cut he’d been glaring at. 

"Sparring isn't the same." 

"No, it’s not," Rex agreed easily.

Kix searched his face for a moment before leaning back and rummaging in his kit, "Treating these would be a waste of bacta, so you'll have to just rub some spit on them and walk it off. Take your armor off so I can look at the rest." 

Rex nodded and began shrugging out of his _ beskar'gam _ only to freeze guiltily when Kix caught his chin, tilted his head and squinted. 

"... Looks like he bit you."

"That he did."

"Hmph. Stay there.”

Part of him had been hoping that Kix would recognize exactly what type of bruise he was looking at. It was a relief and a torment to have the love-bite hanging in the air between them. Rex couldn’t ignore his own embarrassment and the unease pounding in his head like an aching tooth--he needed to bring it up with someone and, again, he couldn’t think of someone better than Kix. Because as much as he didn’t want to think it, didn’t want to jinx the situation, he had a bad feeling. About _ Obi-Wan _. About the hint of fear lingering like a taste of bile on the back of his tongue and the way Rex felt hounded even surrounded by his brothers and ostensibly ‘rescued’ from… from an orgasm, apparently. Not the kind of peril he wanted rescue from. Rex didn’t understand what he was so afraid of when he’d faced far worse things than a rough almost-coupling he was more than eager for. Yet something deep in his brain insisted he stay on guard.

“Ow,” He complained at the sharp sting of antiseptic on a wound.

“Knock it off,” Kix growled, slapped his hand away, “and turn your head so I can see what I’m doing.”

The blood on the sterile wipes he was being dabbed with threw him all over again. He stared, uncomprehending, before he remembered. His head went light.

“… This is still a shallow wound but human mouths are filthy. I want you to wash it regularly and keep an eye on it as it heals.”

_ But I think he does. I think he does want to eat me. _

“Kix, can I tell you something?" Rex managed, voice faint. It wasn't any of the many things he could have said in response to the revelation that Obi-Wan had drunk his blood but it felt right once he’d started.

"... Sure," the medic replied cautiously. 

"I don't think General Kenobi is going to be ok." 

***** **

When Kix’s tender mercies were over and done with Rex slapped himself back into order. He quietly sent out runners to claim a potential campsite within the abandoned village and reported to the _ Resolute _ but remained at his General’s side. The two Jedi had not moved much beyond twitches and small adjustments, their eyes locked or looking foggily into middle distance at something only they could see. They’d been gazing into each other’s eyes for a long time, long enough for Rex to develop a serious headache from adrenaline crash and worry. 

Rex almost wasn’t surprised when Skywalker slowly unpeeled his master from the wall but he was a little annoyed he gave them no warning. 

Skywalker stepped back and General Kenobi started sliding down the wall. His feet touched down, then his shoulders lifted away. Rex got the pleasure of both admiring the unreal, languid way Obi-Wan moved and everyone else reacting to it. Skywalker recoiled; the clones all went stock still on full alert. Kenobi gave them all a slanted, pissy look before slithering away with that dancer’s gait, pressed tight to the perimeter of the room like a cornered wolf. Rex almost didn’t realize it before it was too late but the Jedi master’s cloak shifted colors subtly, blending into the wall behind him in a shiver of color, like a chameleon, until he disappeared completely.

They stared, astonished, until Hardcase blurted, “Oh, great, you let him get away!”

“It’s alright,” Skywalker murmured distractedly, “he won’t go far.”

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence among the remaining brothers. Skywalker took a moment to fully come back to the moment, and when he did, he blinked at their uncertainty then chuckled.

“Oh, he won’t hurt any of you. Probably,” The Jedi said cheekily. One of the men snorted incredulous at the lukewarm endorsement and the rest chuckled or muttered.

Rex rolled his eyes and raised his voice, “I agree, General, but I’d love to hear how you know that.”

Rex ignored Kix's staring. Glued to Kix’s hip as he was, Jesse noticed his partner's scrutiny and Rex could almost see the visors on his bucket narrow.

“Our training bond is still there, remember? Jedi training bonds are made when-“

“Oh, I don’t know if I could understand any of that fancy Jedi higher-power stuff like that, General Sir. I’m just a soldier. It would go right over my head,” Rex deadpanned as seriously as he could manage. Skywalker gave him a pinched look and Rex spotted a brother smothering a grin behind him.

“Higher power-? Ugh, no, it’s…” his general sighed heavily and rubbed his face before narrowing his eyes, daring Rex to interrupt. Skywalker was starting to catch on to the game. He’d have to back off playing dumb for a while before trying that again. Ideally Skywalker wouldn’t act like he was dumb enough to deserve it. 

“You were saying, sir?”

“... The training bond connecting us telepathically is still there. I was able to… kinda make contact. Explain things to him.”

_“ Kinda ?”_ a brother blurted. 

Skywalker grimaced. He scanned the empty space the Jedi Master had disappeared from and Rex did too, though he doubted he’d see Kenobi unless he wanted to be seen. Though he had a suspicion that Kenobi had long since fled the room. The pervading fear he’d been dazed by was gone.

“Yeah… Kind of. He never said anything back. At least he was listening to me. I told him who I was, who you guys are, and who… he is. He doesn’t remember anything.”

“That was my experience too. He attacked me at first but backed off when I called his name,” Rex held up a hand when he saw the hope in Skywalker’s eyes, “_ But _ he didn’t recognize his name. He was mostly curious because I was acting like I knew him.” The General’s disappointed sigh was universally echoed. 

“If he’s all spiced out how are we gonna get him home?” Jesse finally asked.

Skywalker groaned, rubbing his face harder, “Well. I’m hoping we could convince him to come willingly. I don’t want to even contemplate dealing with him like this if he thinks we’ve captured him.”

“Well, good thing we set up camp already because this is going to take a while.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy here it is. The first chapter. I promise there is more to come. Please pray for me, guys, my stamina for writing is abysmal. I actually want to finish a fic for once so encouragement would be hugely appreciated. Also, please be patient with any mistakes as I do not have a beta. I switched tenses at least four times in this chapter alone...
> 
> On a different note, as I was writing this fic I realized my interpretation of feral!Obi-Wan could easily fall into the 'born sexy yesterday' trope. Which isn't what I wanted! So I sought to subvert and undermine the sexist trope everywhere I could. 
> 
> A. The character in question is male rather than the customary female. 
> 
> B. There will be no romantic or sexual tension from any figure who could be construed as familial or parental. NEVER will anyone rehabilitating or shaping his worldview have even a whiff of shippyness. 
> 
> C. Obi-Wan will never have an active romance with anyone who doesn't have a similar level of mental/emotional maturity as him. The nice thing about clones is that they are just as liminal as him, caught between being old and young at once. But even relationships with older clones will take time to happen... Rex and Obi-Wan aren't gonna be smashing for a while, y'all. 
> 
> D. Obi-Wan will be acting very feral, very primal, and in some ways he will take on bestial characteristics. HOWEVER... I am taking pains to not allow anyone to treat him like an animal or a child without recognizing it as dehumanizing or demeaning. Obi-Wan WILL NOT actually BE an animal or a child, either. He's in a weird place but he is an adult relearning the world who happens to have very savage instincts. (He will be spoiled rotten, though, because he's not afraid to ask for a footrub cos it feels nice. I am also very self-indulgent and I want to see Obi-Wan get his hair braided and his belly petted. So there.) 
> 
> I personally don't have much beef with the trope. I also don't have problems with self indulgent fics which have problematic themes. Far as I am concerned, you do you! We are all discerning readers. But as much as I believe that… I felt that letting issues like these slide would be off-putting for this fic. Plus, Honestly? Not a lot of fics actually do address this sort of thing. So perhaps this will be a refreshing change of pace while still having fun. 
> 
> Let me know if that goal gets unbalanced or there is something I missed, or a way Obi-Wan is treated which could be handled differently/uniquely. PLEASE comment any ideas for a scene that you wish could be handled differently.
> 
> Please comment ANY scene you would love to see in Feral for any reason and I'll see if I can find a place for it. Any ideas. Any at all. Anything YOU would write for this verse. Anything that is just fun. Or reference a fandom meme or idea you would like to see in fic form. I legitimately will try to work in them all into the next chapter! Ideas from you guys give me inspiration to go off of.
> 
> Also, feel free to hit me up on tumblr https://glorious-sea-pancakes.tumblr.com/


	2. The Weirdening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Anakin is an avoidant little shithead.
> 
> Featuring commenter request for: clone cuddle piles.
> 
> CHAPTER WARNINGS: panic attacks
> 
> DARKNESS SCALE: 2/10
> 
> Brought to you by: TheFatRat - MayDay ft. Laura Brehm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mind the new tag(s)! Especially, uh, that one. I totally forgot to add that one before, haha... (The tags for this fic are wild, guys.) I will endeavor to make all of the worst icky bits of this fic skippable and give content warnings for each chapter. Let me know if there are specific triggers you want me to make skippable!
> 
> Please comment ANY scene you would love to see in Feral for any reason and I'll see if I can find a place for it. Ideas from you guys give me inspiration to go off of.
> 
> Also, feel free to hit me up on tumblr https://glorious-sea-pancakes.tumblr.com/

**TWO MONTHS EARLIER **   
**Anakin**

Anakin didn’t think much of it when he first started feeling uneasy. In his defense? He was in the middle of an absolute shitstorm of a battle, too focused on deflecting blaster bolts to ruminate on his emotions. Mid-fight mortal terror was also perfectly normal (even for a Jedi) and Anakin was better at handling warfare than most. Also, to be fair, it could be hard to discern the difference between whispers in the force and heartburn. 

So when his stomach rolled he swallowed the acidic saliva flooding his mouth and breathed carefully. When his hands began to tremble he tightened his grip and focused on his saber technique. He ignored and ignored, released the fear for what he would later determine was an admirably long time. It wasn't until a grenade exploded against the cover they were hiding behind that he started to lose his grip. 

He didn’t remember falling, came to facedown on the hangar floor panting and shaking. _ Sorry! Shit, sorry… _ He spent a heartbeat visualizing towering stone walls erupting up between himself and his bondmates. They didn’t need to worry about him unnecessarily.

“General, are you alright?” Fives shouted, voice tinny through his helm.

Ani blinked back tears. _ No. _ But he nodded anyway, scraped himself off the floor and flung himself back into the fight. He used the exertion to center himself and release the panic to the force, propelled himself back into the no-man’s land between friend and foe. 

But releasing the fear felt like trying to bail a sinking ship with a spoon. When it kept not working, when another grenade made him flinch, made him _ cower _, made his troops cry out when he missed a deflect and got creased, he started to realize that the Force was telling him something was very, very wrong.

But where? As always finding the strength to carry on was so much easier when someone else needed him. The Force was giving him the chance to protect his men, after all. So with grim determination he shored up thicker shields over his bonds and felt better immediately.

But an even stronger shockwave of blood curdling terror and shrieking grief nearly drove him to his knees. He flung a horrified look over his shoulder-- expecting to see carnage unfolding upon his men because he was stupid enough to believe that _ leaving them _ was what it took to protect them— or was it Ashoka? Obi-Wan? _ Padmé _?

Three blaster bolts hit him, and 

_ Obi-Wan _

he instinctively peeled back a few layers shielding between him and his master, seeking comfort from his presence as he often did in moments of weakness, and became no more

No! NO!

_ The last time he felt this way he was, _

_ He’s screaming and fighting for his life, clawing for dear salvation, sobbing and screaming for help, for anyone- _

_ He- _

_ wielding his lightsaber like a club, slamming into a being that screams both- _

_ for who? Who?! _

_ -like a raider and the nasally voice of a droid at once _

_ His stomach is painfully full and he feels sick to his soul but he can’t vomit the pollution out _

_ never felt so powerful, so deadly, all tiredness gone from his limbs as he runs full tilt feet pounding. The shots fired at him might as well be hanging motionless for how easy they are to dodge but he runs as if death itself snaps at his heels _

_ No! _

_ With teeth like- _

_ His men struggle to keep up with him, Watching his lightsaber cut through the haze of tears, feeling the drag of melting through metal chassis, makes him feel less The discordant moans of the dying, of beings who should not have survived dying Hated ALONE _

_ decomposition of his own living bodies- _

_ Jedi aren’t meant to _ channel _ fear and they howl _

_ AND YET- _

_ WITH TEETH LIKE- _

He’s wielding his lightsaber like a club

Someone tried to stop him, shouted his name, but he shoved them back with every limb he could spare and the force too.

Anakin didn’t know how long he was gone. When he came back the battle was over because he _ ended it. _ He’s soaked with sweat, tears dripping from his chin, panting out toxic breath like the bellows of a refinery.

Anakin numbly threw up shields with no intention of dropping them any time soon. Nobody but him, Ashoka, his troopers, and, inevitably, Obi-Wan would ever be aware anything happened.

***** ***** *****

Anakin remembered catching the first blaster shots but past that? Nothing. He had no memory of the deeply stupid shit he'd done to himself--in his hysteria he'd been untouchable but had no regard for his own well being. Apparently, the broken radius was from when he'd _ punched a blast door down with his bare hand. That kind of stupid shit. _

Therefore, bacta. He had been cognizant when they dipped him so he was not surprised when he opened his eyes to a gluey womb. He _ was _ surprised by how ill he felt. Usually he left bacta feeling as fresh as a soggy daisy. At worst a tired, dry throated daisy. Never had he felt gross while still dipped. He closed his eyes again, sickened. 

Mercifully he fell asleep before he could experiment with puking into a respirator. Less mercifully he's roused when the medics fish him out. Out of pure self preservation he went stiff and curled inward like a dead spider. Maybe if he didn’t move he wouldn’t hurl, if he braced his muscles he wouldn’t hurt so badly-

They stopped moving him. After a moment of mumbling that made him twitch, blind and helpless, someone took off his respirator. He gasped like a beached fish. 

“General?” 

Someone pried open his eye and Anakin screamed, wrenched his head away and started gagging short disgusting burping noises. Then-- clanking, clattering, a hiss, a burble, then the bacta stopped draining. They held him half floating at the surface to let him dry heave in peace. Hands took turns petting his hair. 

“General Skywalker?” Kix murmured once his retching stopped, “Can you tell me how you’re feeling? Where it hurts?”

Anakin’s lips opened and closed for a moment, “‘shoka?”

“She’s doing well, sir. Senator Amidala and Chancellor Palpatine are both fine, too. No bad news from the 212th.”

“M-m… My s-stomach…”

“Mhm. You’ve definitely got some serious nausea and light sensitivity. Any vertigo?” 

Anakin gave the tiniest of nods, put a hand to his belly, “My s-stomach,” he said urgently.

“Does it hurt?”

“Y-mmhm. Mh. ’m so full it h-hurts.”

“General, you haven’t eaten in days. You’re stomach is completely empty.”

“No. F-full. You.. you need to p-pump my stomach. I need to throw up,” Anakin wheezed, doubling over for a new round of fruitless heaving. When that did nothing he shoved a hand roughly into his mouth, fingertips on the back of his throat, and choked. 

“Hey! Whoa, absolutely the frip not! Knock that off!” Anakin wrestled with him for a moment but reluctantly subsided and let Kix pry his hand out of his mouth. He relaxed gratefully when a hand pressed gingerly to Ani’s stomach, short probing pokes and circular massaging movements. His touch caused no pain. 

“... I’ll arrange a scan for your abdomen, ok?” Kix said eventually when Anakin slumped back, drippling stomach acid from his lips after helpless convulsions. 

Ani nodded gratefully, slurred, “Pu’ me under, please.”

Kix patted Anakin’s slippery shoulder, squeezed gently. He managed to endure how long it took for the medics to shuffle around and get the good shit into his IV line that knocked him out within seconds. 

***** ***** *****

Kix later found Anakin curled into a ball at the head of his cot with his head between his knees.

“How are you feeling, General?” 

“Ngh,” He replied. 

The chair at his bedside creaked when Kix settled into it. This was an old song and dance for them and the noise was inordinately annoying. He peeked out over his arm to glare balefully at the smarmy clone. Kix simply slung an ankle onto the opposing thigh, giving himself a surface to balance his datapad on. The bastard stared, waiting. Anakin sneered. 

“You gonna elaborate?” 

Anakin whined. Kix blinked patiently. 

“... Stomach feels better. Don’ wanna puke all over myself and die anymore. Can’ move, though.”

“Good, good,” the medic ignored the dour look Anakin sent him, “Anything else?” 

“Skin still feels too tight. Head too small. But… s’better. Halos gone. Nightmares, still, but thas’ better too. Anything come up in any of those tests?” 

Kix sighed heavily, the bags under his eyes highlighted by his downcast gaze, “No. Far as we can tell you just have some kind of stomach bug. Your blood work doesn’t show any immune response, though. There’s nothing wrong with your stomach except that you need to be putting food in it.” 

Ani shuddered. Kix shook his head slowly, “You’ve got to eat, General. I can’t justify keeping you on an IV forever.”

“I never thought I’d see the day you kick me out of medbay,” Anakin teased, managing a smile, “usually you’re trying to tie me down.”

Kix snorted, “You put up with the poking pretty well--you’re just a workaholic. Not the worst patient I’ve had.” 

“Oh, stop,” Ani rasped, waving Kix off mock-shy.

“Seriously, though. You need energy to heal and I don’t have unlimited room here. I can’t imagine you want to stay here, either. You keep food down without wharfing and I’ll let you go.”

Anakin tugged at his hair rhythmically for a long moment. As much as he dreaded contemplating eating Kix was entirely correct. He wanted out of the infirmary, wanted to sleep in his own bed away from the bacta antiseptic smells, away form the colorful, beautiful, horrible memorial posters/collages on the walls. Other men, good men, needed the bed more than he did. Finally he nodded cautiously, flashing a thumbs up before flapping a hand impatiently, _ hurry up, _ at Kix. An invalid’s broth was brought so quickly that Kix had surely reheated a bowl in anticipation of their conversation. Anakin was grateful Kix was the only witness to Anakin’s struggle to not cry from the agony of sip after tiny sip. His stomach screamed, convinced he would part at the seams like an overstuffed toy. A hand on valley between his ribs and a constant obsessive probing with the force helped stave off the pain. 

***** ***** *****

Later, Anakin would be proud of how soon he was able to convince himself to lower the shields against Obi-Wan. He’d managed to lower his shields with Ashoka after he’d left medbay. He hugged her, told her he was fine, and moved on. 

But he wasn’t ready to let down the shields he had with Obi-Wan. Not until he was ready to explain himself.

Because they were fighting in a war. Extenuating circumstances! Being a Jedi didn’t prevent anyone from _ feeling._ Jedi training simply gave one the ability to compartmentalize and let go of normal emotions. Surely any rational being wouldn't be able to handle a war without being affected from time to time! A momentary lapse in control did not necessarily a fallen Jedi make. Besides, he was young and lapses in control were to be expected in high-stress circumstances. Hotshot was _fine_, he'd recovered from Anakin's Force kick with good humor! Ani hadn’t actually hurt anyone _ living-no, he can’t say that, his conscience forbade treating droids like inanimate slaves, empty slaves like everyone else, but, oh, how many droids he’d killed _ \--! He’d been injured! Sick! Pain always made control harder. Anakin was fine and he had handled the slip well all things considered. He’d filtered out the dregs of emotion from his psyche and he was now _ perfectly in control. _Give him a few days and the physical aftershocks of the slip would be gone. Maybe Anakin’s sorry state would earn him some sympathy instead of scorn. For all Anakin knew psychic blowback like this was common. 

He lowered his shields on the training bond only after he was fresh out of the shower, bacta free, and folded barefoot on his stale rack. His comm waited in his hands, fully expected to ring the second his master sensed his willingness to talk.

The comm remained silent. It took a shamefully long time to understand what he sensed. 

He covered his eyes with a hand and laughed hysterically, condemning himself for a fool. Because apparently he couldn’t stop himself from screwing up _ yet again _ despite best intentions. And, this time, he may have critically karked it by being so fucking thick that he didn’t recognize a cry for help when he heard one. 

***** ***** *****

Anakin didn’t have the time to hate himself for long. Rex and Fives knock at his door the same day he'd been released, not long after he made his pleas to search for Obi-Wan. One look at Anakin and they made an offer he never expected to get. The offer was so sweet Anakin couldn't bring himself to heckle them or turn them down. He felt so gross, so lonely, so _ despicable. _His emotional state lay in such tattered shambles that he fought (more) tears at first. _ ‘You’re _ our _ Jedi, sir.’ _Gods. He knew he’d been given a privilege, knew what an honor it was to be included in such a jealously guarded aspect of clone culture. So he agreed while trying to not act reluctant. Tried to feel like he deserved their kindness. Even still it was only the gentle concern, gentle amusement, gentle affection that filled the force which convinced Anakin to stay.

“You tell _ anyone? _ You _ die," _Anakin tells the men in a savage tone. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sir,” Echo chirped and was, hah, echoed by a chorus of agreements and promises. 

Anakin reluctantly let himself get pulled horizontal, down into a giant nest of pillows, blankets, and men. He couldn’t help the stiffness at first, stemmed from embarrassment and shame. He should have been meditating in solitude like a good Jedi. Also? He’s never been touched so intimately by anyone but Padmé and wasn’t _ that _the whole point? Anakin was a very big fan of Padmé and had less than zero interest in anyone else so far. The arm slung around his waist and the body that spooned against his back made him thrill with _ whoops, nope! _Thankfully Fives smacked Tup and motioned mysteriously. Then Anakin was bullied into a different position that… was a lot better, actually. His head ended up pillowed on a muscular stomach and Fives pillowed his arms on Anakin’s before resting there. His legs were slung over Hotshot and he was… surprisingly warm and comfortable. A soft blanket got pulled by many hands from many directions to cover Anakin. A small, squishy, cone shaped pillow got crammed under Anakin’s neck and, oh, perfect. He slowly rested his bionic arm over Hardcase’s back. The man sighed a long sleepy exhale and didn’t protest.

Before Anakin could fully fall asleep Rex ghosted into the room with soft but intent eyes. Ani couldn’t help but aim a big, dopey smile at him. Rex grinned back in return. 

All of the clones tended to be warm bodied. Despite the living heated blanket Anakin was buried in, Rex’s hand still felt fever-warm as he pet Anakin’s damp eyes closed.

“Get some rest, General Skywalker.”

  
**NOW: TWO MONTHS LATER**

Anakin woke feeling better than he’d felt in months, maybe years. The pressure of a too-tight skull, inflamed sinuses, burning eyes, and aching muscles were all gone. Instead he felt warm and struggled to rouse fully under the feel of contentment radiating through his bones. But sleep felt all too often like a luxury during the war. There could be no true rest when somewhere there brewed another atrocity, another injustice, another front struggling under the onslaught. Anakin was lucky to be granted leave to look for his master. 

_ Master. _

Fear slammed into him like a physical blow. His master was nearby, he could feel his master, stars, he was close-! He sucked air in a backwards scream, scrabbled at the floor of the tent _ my men my men, oh, stars, my men- _ arching with mindless frustration and a long whining growl through his teeth when someone held him still. Desperately, Ani flung his mind out of the confines of his tent like a spear. Right outside his tent was Rolly, _ alertcuriousamused- what's going on in there? _ Anakin discarded the impressions as he passed, tapped each of the minds in his immediate vicinity, counting _ one-two-three four five _ and briefly tasting their emotions _ worriedrelaxedhappy? bored? _ while throwing up rudimentary shields around each bright light. Not only were all of his men accounted for there were _ more? _ More troopers than he’d arrived with- 

Arms tightened around Anakin and a hum rumbled against his back. The interloper enveloping him shifted, brought a hand around to smooth a calloused palm along his forehead, pushed his hair back to make room for a chaste kiss. Anakin twisted to look wide-eyed behind himself and saw _ Obi-Wan _, a sleep mussed wreck with a soft-eyed look of contentment. Anakin went boneless with relief and horrible embarrassment. 

No wonder he’d felt Obi-Wan nearby--the bastard was right next to him! 

Anakin knew why he'd made such a mistake. He hadn’t understood until they’d met face to face yesterday. 

While most sentients were not force sensitive they still had natural shielding, houses with lights on but locked doors and drawn curtains. To his knowledge only one or two species went completely bare-brained. Anakin had never met a being without at least a weak-minded _ fence _ up. 

Throughout Anakin’s apprenticeship Obi-Wan had unwavering durasteel shields. He had never slipped up once in all of their years together, not even while actively enduring torture. The only openings were deliberate portculli lifted for brief peeks into his world. Their training bond allowed Anakin deeper insight than most people ever got. In recent days even that opening felt more like only being close enough to observe the weather rolling over his master’s fortress. 

By stark contrast, Obi-Wan's mind was now flat and open. Completely unshielded. 

He felt like a vast lake, an infinity pool that stretched and emanated beyond him. Flashes of emotive heat and color rippled the surface, lapped out against Anakin’s shields, purled along the training bond between them. Anakin could easily tell what he was feeling. Contentment. Sleepy satisfaction. Faint amusement. A low buzzing of neutral _ existence _ . He radiated emotion like a space heater, permeated everything around him. No wonder the men were in such a good mood. The hugeness of his mind made him bizarrely hard to track--he felt like he was everywhere at once to the degree that Anakin hadn’t been able to pinpoint the man laying _ right kriffing behind him _. 

"Status, sir?" Rolly leered through the flap. Obi-Wan burrowed his face into the back of Anakin’s neck, limbs constricting tighter. Anakin could feel his suspicious regard drilling into Rolly. The clone visibly hesitated. 

"Green, Rolly. Status?" 

"Green, sir. Reinforcements arrived this morning. Commander Cody has the deck."

Sweet relief. _ Cody? Huh. _

"Good… good. I'll be up in a moment."

"Sir." Bless Rolly's heart; he ducked out of the tent but not before nervously waving at Obi-Wan. The troopers still thought that Obi-Wan had been merely scared... which Anakin was not about to correct.

At first he'd been sure Obi-Wan wasn't hostile but as the day wore on the man degraded into circling their camp like a territorial gundark, oozing fear and killing intent. Given how poorly yesterday went, Anakin fully expected to wake and find clone corpses slain by his master. Anakin wouldn't have slept, given the choice, but sleep deprivation, stress, and being physically wrestled into a sleeping bag had taken the decision out of his hands. Kix also may have spiked his water. Anakin wasn’t sure. 

Now his master perked inquisitively, both in body and mind, wariness subsumed when Rolly waved at him. But he hadn’t the foggiest clue what Obi-Wan was _ thinking. _

That was the scary thing. Anakin couldn’t hear a single coherent word of Basic in Obi-Wan's mind. Not a single peep. He could see Obi-Wan shrug, stretch and yawn like a lothcat, could sense how good the extension of his muscles felt to him, heard Rolly outside sigh and pop his neck in sympathetic satisfaction outside. He watched Obi-Wan notice Anakin’s observation, saw his face brighten and felt a perk of happy curiosity in response, a loud and clear telepathic _ ? _

Not a word. Not a whisper. Obi-Wan may not… Be capable of words anymore.

His master frowned, a pseudopod of telepathic contact reaching more deliberately down the bond toward Anakin. Surely he sensed the lump of sadness clogging Anakin’s throat. Obi-Wan made a worried noise, reached out to pet Anakin’s hair with knit brows and eyes that said _ what’s wrong? _ Still, not a syllable. The hand in his hair felt so good, though, and he let himself be tucked into his master’s chest, closed his eyes and breathed around the dread clenching his heart. Obi-Wan had never been so demonstrative and… Anakin was shameless enough to soak in it. He pretended to ignore the intuition, the bedrock certainty, that told him _ it wouldn’t matter, anyway, because Obi-Wan wasn’t going to recover enough to care about liberties taken. _

After a time, Ani stirred, sat up. Obi-Wan’s attention swung almost audibly to the hand Anakin pressed to Obi-Wan’s belly. The field of view that Obi-Wan's presence saturated narrowed and focused on the touch. 

"Shh. Just checking you, Master," Anakin soothed, smiling down at him. 

Concerned but trusting. Passive. So different from his wary agitation just yesterday. What changed? 

Obi-Wan peered suspicious but relaxed, let Anakin haul his robe up and scrunch the fabric up under his armpits to bare his torso without actually undressing him. His robes were sloppily worn, stained, crooked and lumpy. He'd probably done his best to guess how each piece folded. All things considered he’d done alright. But _ Obi-Wan didn’t remember how to wear his own clothes_. Anakin could only imagine what it was like to be stymied by something so simple. For a Jedi donning the complicated robes was a meditation on its own. His master’s unknowing, blameless failure made the raw hurt of seeing him in such a state that much worse. 

...Skinny! But not emaciated. Months of eating off the land had done that, certainly. In the wilderness avoiding starvation was a full time job. His master was still heavy with lean Jedi musculature but had far too little body fat to avoid looking wiry. By Anakin’s estimation Obi-Wan had been eating well despite his circumstances. 

Obi-Wan had the same scars, maybe a few more. The freckles looked right, he guessed? He’d never known his body nor cared to. Obi-Wan looked down at himself, idly toying with a curl of Anakin’s hair, probably wondering what Anakin was looking for. Feeling a cold thrill of fear in his heart, Anakin pressed a palm flat to the crook between Obi-Wan’s too-prominent ribs, right at the apex below his sternum, and pressed slowly. 

Anakin didn’t feel anything. Obi-Wan didn’t react beyond a twitch of his abdominals. But, no, the oscillations of Obi-Wan’s mind got shy. Anakin didn’t ruminate on it long--could have just been a fluke, reacting to Anakin’s memory as connected as they were. Ani inhaled slowly through his nose and exhaled peace. Pressed gentle, probing fingers into Obi-Wan’s stomach once his abdominals relaxed as Kix had once done to him. 

His master tolerated his gentle touches well, though he shifted a knee up reflexively and gave him a puzzled frown. The narrow focus of his mind gradually softened too, eased outwards but contracted again whenever Anakin accidentally jostled him until he was accustomed to that too. He twitched a little and squirmed away when Anakin pressed a little too deep. Laughed when Anakin accidentally tickled him. 

They both wiped away Anakin’s expression of mingled grief and relief. 

Ani sniffed and gave him a wan smile, “I’m not a medic but I don’t feel anything. I guess you’re ok.” He patted his master’s tummy sharply and laughed when Obi-Wan jolted. He laughed more genuinely when Obi-Wan drummed on his own stomach playfully. 

He let Obi-Wan hold him just a little bit longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Legit a summary of last chapter:  
https://youtu.be/zXT_IOt81Xs?t=60
> 
> Rex: Just a little peril?  
Anakin: No, it's much too perilous.


	3. Love at first sight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which several rude awakenings occur and a relationship tag is added. 
> 
> Featuring commenter requests for: Cody’s reaction to Feral!Kenobi and animalistic Obi-Wan.
> 
> Inspired by: https://maulusque.tumblr.com/post/188295497360/kaminoan-dormitories
> 
> CHAPTER WARNINGS: Gore, nasty dietary choices. 
> 
> DARKNESS SCALE: 1/10

**  
** **Rex**

Rex woke to a finger poking him in the tender ticklishness between his ribs. Even half asleep he instantly recognized who was doing it- mostly because nobody else would dare. Rex’s ears ached sympathetically from memories of high-atmo sleeping pods depressurizing in the morning. It was easy to remember the warmth from mornings cramped too tight against another body just as bulky as his own, barely able to breathe, damp and hot with the smell of their morning breath. Of Kaminoans peering into their pod and blinking huge wet eyes, utterly baffled because they'd chosen to share what little oxygen they had just to sleep curled together. Of one of the few times they were allowed to be lazy, relaxed, of how the bastard always _ went for sensitive, vulnerable meat _-

“Wake up, ya karkin’ _ chakaar _.” 

“_ Usen'ye _,” He groaned, swatting away another finger probing the short ribs right by his spine. He couldn’t help his sleepy smile. Had it been anyone else touching him he would have leapt into a crouch, knife in hand, ready to rock the moment he had been touched. 

The finger prodded him again. Rex snagged the finger, twisted it. A wrong move, he knew, because Cody was specialized for CQC and he’d surely end up pinned and roaring. But Cody only yanked free to slap him hard on the ass.

“Move already. I have words for you.”

Rex rolled over to watch Cody slip out of his tent, bemused, and yelled at his back, “How did you even get here so fast?”

Cody didn’t answer, disappearing into the camp set up in the plaza at the center of town. When Rex made it outside, spit shined in full battle dress with Obi-Wan's ill begotten dagger at his hip, he found Cody standing at the makeshift command table. No sign of General Skywalker. 

'Hurry up and wait' missions were always awkward to prep for. They had no goal beyond 'find and retrieve General Kenobi' which should have been accomplished within a day. There were no apparent enemy forces, no forts to take, no refugees to aid, no strategies to coordinate. Nothing to do, period. So they did their best on weird jobs like this one and set up as thorough a base of operations as they could. _ Just in case _ . The men over-prepared for lack of anything better to do… _ sweet little gods _ Rex hoped to hell they didn't end up needing the anti-aircraft gun being assembled over yonder. 

If Rex were being honest with himself, having General Skywalker, the _Resolute_, and practically the entire 501st in orbit was a massive waste of resources in the first place. He had no idea how Cody had weaseled his way to join their glorified _taxi_ _run_. Cody should have been halfway across the galaxy with the 212th, running ops like big boys without Dad Kenobi’s watchful presence.

So Rex asked again, 

“Hey, Cody! How did you get here so fast?”

Cody turned his exhausted glare in Rex’s direction, “Are you kidding me? You think I wasn’t making a crazy beeline the whole time?” 

“I should have known you'd be in pursuit, you stubborn bastard,” Rex allowed, stepping up to Cody and yanking him into a hug. Cody growled, hugging him fiercely in return after dead-arming him. The compression of the too-tight hug felt unaccountably good. 

“You bastard. He’s _ my _Jedi,” 

Force. Rex had missed his brother terribly. They had even seen each other fairly recently but, oh, he missed him still. Kix was a fair confidant under pressure but nothing compared to his best friend. They weren't batchmates, they hadn't even met until Commander training under Alpha-17. Cody had been such a hidebound stick in the mud, too, but somehow they became so close that Rex didn't know what he would do without him. He couldn’t think of anyone he needed more right then. 

A small, thready part of his heart protested that it could think of one person he needed more but Rex crushed it without acknowledgment. That didn’t stop the thought from flavoring their reunion with a bittersweet ache. Inspired, Rex lifted his head to press their foreheads together. The reality of Cody’s skin and the scent of his hair were life-affirmingly real. After a surprised beat Cody allowed it, pressed back into the brief gesture. 

When they parted Cody’s eyes raked sharp over him. Whatever Cody had been meaning to say diverted by Rex’s uncharacteristic melancholic affection. Rex’s mild look was the only admission needed. 

A pause as they studied each other. Then Cody pointed to his own temple. 

"You've got red on you."

He reflexively reached up with searching fingers, encountering small patches of flaky dryness. A glance at his fingers revealed flecks of dried blood. _ Bloody kiss prints. _Rex hoped he could adapt to ‘the weirdness’ soon. He didn't want to navigate his day unable to predict when he'd step off unexpected emotional curbs every twentieth step. He quickly pawed off the dried kiss prints from his hair and brow.

Business. Business first, "Anything I need to be worried about?" Rex asked pretending he hadn't fallen mysteriously silent, nodding his chin toward the various holo-coms, maps, and command doohickeys laid out over the makeshift war table. 

"Just a bunch of grocery lists, bad news, and angry assholes."

"So, the usual." 

“The usual. All of that can wait,” Cody said with growing threatening ease and a smile that would do Wolfe proud. He slapped Rex on the shoulder and took him in a too-firm grip, “Let's take a walk.” 

Rex grimaced but nodded. The two began their own patrol through the abandoned town, footsteps slow, falling into mutual orbit. The brothers they passed knew to politely ignore them. 

“Why’d you build camp outside?” Cody groused, “There are plenty of defensible positions in any one of these buildings.”

“Because it felt right,” Rex said sweetly, savoring the disgusted scowl on his brother’s face. 

“Don’t. Don’t tell me Skywalker actually said that.”

He totally did. Rex decided with a hint of droll amusement to leave that one hanging, “Surely someone already briefed you this morning.” 

“Someone did. I want to hear it from you. Maybe then I can figure out why you look so kriffing sorry. Maybe it's because I found you sleeping like a baby instead of telling me absolutely anything. But what do I know.”

Cody was clearly in rare form. But he'd been given hugs so all was not yet lost. 

"Stars, Cody, I would have called you first thing this morning. I was just half tied into a bag by my men yesterday." 

"My Jedi, Rex! Mine! You should have at least had someone else update me. I know you know how to delegate. I would have given you that courtesy if Skywalker went AWOL and... 'Weird,'" Cody barely paused a breath, voice hard and fast. With bags under his eyes big enough to pack a trip to the outer rim, Rex was amazed he had the energy to talk so fast or give such animated air quotes with his fingers around the dreaded 'w' word. 

Rex couldn't deal with that much frantic energy. He reached out and clasped his brother’s shoulder tightly. 

"You're right, Cody. I'm sorry. Next time I'll do better for you. I… wasn't at my best. Yesterday kind of knocked all of us on our asses. Not proud to admit I passed out without much encouragement. But I swear to you I was fully intending to contact you first thing." 

Cody's chin lifted, "I'm sure you thought it was worse for you." 

Normally such a thing would make Rex scramble to apologize again. But this time his heart told him in no uncertain terms, "... No. This time I think we are even." 

That visibly surprised Cody. He cautiously examined Rex before finally barking, "... Alright. Fine. What's your problem?"

Rex knew the all consuming devotion a 2IC felt for their Jedi, knew Cody had been bitten by that bug stronger than most. Cody was right - - this was _ his _ Jedi and he had been stuck trying not to panic from not knowing what became of his Jedi. But, damn it, his Jedi or not this was _ Rex's _ dumb heart and this was _ his _ reality _ knowing _ what became of Obi-Wan and trying to not panic anyway. 

"... Aside from the obvious?" Rex asked miserably.

Cody softened, "Aside from the obvious." 

Where to start.

He looked out over the dropoff of the stone platform into the shimmering, mirrorlike water of the forest for a long moment. 

“Alright. So, turns out tracking crazy, invisible Jedi masters is relatively simple,” when Cody didn’t look confused by that he continued, “He can camouflage well against conventional senses but, given his amnesia, he has no idea infrared exists or how to hide from it. But we didn’t realize we were karking up until a rookie couldn’t remember any of his watch because he was so scared.”

Cody’s brows lifted, “Which shiny?”

“Rabbit. But before you decide to make the poor guy’s day horrible for his own good, listen. Wasn’t the kids fault. Skywalker realized that Kenobi wasn’t shielding, we don’t have advanced shields, and the man was projecting all over the place.” 

It took Cody only a moment to get it. 

“Aw, shit, you guys were terrifying him weren’t you."

"He didn't understand how we kept spotting him." 

Rex took a hold of his shoulder, squeezed and rocked him slightly. They mutually ignored how what anathema it was for a Jedi Master to be openly scared. As far as Rex was concerned, Obi-Wan got a solid pass on account of the memory loss. Hopefully the Jedi council thought so too. 

“It’s alright, you didn’t know. How dare you for spooking my Jedi, of course, but I get it. Still not getting anything else, though.” 

Rex nodded, slid a palm over his buzzcut, “Yeah. Well, anyway. Skywalker moved camp outside and ordered us to reel it in. Minimal scouts and no more tracking. We both agreed that we had to let him come to us. Just… make ourselves available.”

Cody's disapproval rang clear, "I expected a better excuse for such a pisspoor base." 

"Pft. Come on, Cody, there's kriffall on this planet."

"Except whatever did that to General Kenobi," his brother corrected patiently. 

"... Except that. Yeah." 

"Any idea what that could be?" 

Stars, but this conversation was chafing!

"No. Not a single clue."

“Nobody has seen him all day,” Cody murmured thick and low.

“... I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, Rex. You didn’t know.”

“Cody, he’s...”

A gauntleted hand clasped the back of his neck, squeezed comfortingly. Rex hissed when it pulled on the wound near Cody’s fingertips. His awareness flickered back to the ill begotten dagger at his hip. 

“_ Rex _.” 

And he couldn’t stop himself from laughing in a short helpless burst before confiding, “He tried to frip me.”

_ “Excuse me?” _

“Yeah. I don’t think anyone but Kix suspects, but. He. Kriff. _ Obi-Wan Kenobi, Cody. _ The most Jedi of all Jedi, Mr. Prim and Proper, the biggest tease in the galaxy. Humped me without a molecule of shame.”

“... Are you ok?” said Cody, horrified, “You’ve been stupid about him for, force, how long?”

Rex pressed hands over his face, spoke through them, groaning, “It was so hot, Cody.”

"Gross."

But Rex ignored him. He fumbled for Cody’s hand, yanked his warm familiar fingers up to the soft, plasti-sealed bandage on his neck. 

“He cut me right there with this knife. Then he bit me there and then he was scared, which got me scared, and then I found out he’d been drinking my blood. He ate me a little, Cody. Right here. He’s not… He’s...” 

Cody’s gaze searched his, his face the picture definition of ‘appalled.’

“We haven’t really told anyone just how bad it is yet but General Skywalker and I both know it. You deserve to know. He’s not ok, Cody. This isn’t just amnesia. This is… something else. People don't just change like that. You’ll understand when you see him. But everyone else will too.” 

Cody didn’t seem to know what to say. Rex scrubbed at his face, trying to massage out the tension.

“I’m sorry, Cody. I’m so sorry-”

“No. Don’t you dare. He’ll be _ fine _.”

Uh-huh. 

Rex nodded even though he knew it for a lie. Cody inhaled slow but deep through his nose for a moment before exhaling just as carefully. He bumped their shoulders together. 

“Kenobi is strong, brother, and we will be there to help him through this. He's survived worse against impossible odds."

"Just… Brace yourself, Cody."

*******

Rare as it was, Rex loved it… so. Karking. Much. When problems resolved themselves.

When the pair returned to camp it was over with the brotherly affection and confessions. Down to business. 

First order of business was finding General Skywalker. Rex learned that they’d managed to bully not only Rex to bed last night but also Skywalker. And, miracles abound, the Jedi was sleeping in!

Mysteriously, Waxer also added in a stage whisper, _ “You're gonna love this, sirs.” _

He led Commander and Captain to the low, dinky, brick-red tent Skywalker typically claimed. The brother standing watch outside the tent flap, Rolly, immediately began frantic charades, miming for _ quiet, quiet, dear little gods be quiet! _ Rex didn’t think twice about it at first since Skywalker sleeping in was a rare and treasured event, plenty reason to warrant the enthusiasm. He quickly became confused when Rolly pulled aside the already-undone tent flap in a well practiced move as if he’d been exposing the interior of their General’s tent to the entire camp all morning. And he probably had been. 

Because, some time in the night, Obi-Wan had stolen into Skywalker’s tent to cram his much taller padawan into the smallest, most cuddleable shape he could manage. Both men were fully clothed, boots still on, tumbled together and twisted in their robes like freshly decanted batchmates. Obi-Wan was glommed around his General, arms almost aggressively crunching Skywalker’s tight to his own chest, a booted leg slung over padawan’s hip, pressed together cheek and jowl. Skywalker’s jaw hung open unattractively on soft rasping snores. Obi-Wan’s copper hair was a tangled nest half burying his face. General Skywalker would not be pleased once he woke up in that position and learned what it'd done to his neck. Or how many people had witnessed him become little spoon to his former master. 

Rex pulled out his comm while Rolly held the tent flap open for him to snap pictures. 

At his side Cody relaxed by wide margins. His Jedi was safe and better off than Rex implied. Which was true enough. But he didn't want Cody to get his hopes up, to let a moment's sweetness understate Rex's warning. 

Well. Come what may. Cody motioned for Rex to send him copies of the images he’d taken. Rex gave him a solemn thumbs up. 

**Cody**

  
_ If you can see the whites of their eyes above their iris they’re either terrified or crazy. _ Cody couldn’t tell which he was looking at yet.

There was something wrong with his Jedi’s eyes. 

When General Skywalker first emerged from the tent grinning with all of his teeth,

_ “Oof. Good morning, Gentlemen!” The blonde crowed and got a chorus of leering good mornings in return. He was apparently unbothered by the obvious new blackmail material percolating through the troops. _

Cody immediately dropped everything he was doing and listened to the banter with half an ear. Requisitions, battle updates, comm queues, all of that could fripping wait. The anticipation had been killing him since he'd arrived and his stress had heightened to the resonant hum of nerves clenched so tightly that they screamed. 

_ Taking mercy on Cody’s pent-up silence, Rex spoke up, “How’s General Kenobi?” _

_ “He slept well, but I think he might sleep in---or not, I guess.” _

As it turned out, Rex had done well to warn him. 

There was something _ wrong _ with his Jedi’s eyes.

That wasn't General Kenobi. 

The certainty in his heart was earth shattering. He had not braced himself well enough. Rex had warned him about the blood sucking and the sexual… He’d warned Cody. Yet Cody was not at all prepared for… for this. For _ that _. 

"Oh yeah? Glad you slept well too, master." Anakin chuckled, finger combing orange hair into a semblance of order. 

That was _ not _Obi-fripping-Wan Kenobi. 

Saying Cody was alarmed would be a gross understatement. He could see how taken aback the rest of the men were, too, except Skywalker and Rex who remained at ease. How had they not thought ‘Hey, maybe this isn’t Kenobi? Maybe we’ve got a kriffing imposter on our hands?’ How?! 

"Commander Cody! I'm glad you could make it. Should I be worried about anything?" Skywalker said but Cody didn’t even bother answering. Someone coughed, and distantly he heard Rex patching over the lapse like the saint he wasn’t paid enough (at all) to be. 

"No, sir, he’s here officially as General Kenobi’s ride." 

“... Good man.”

Cody had imagined a misguided, confused, and sloppy Kenobi trying to be affectionate and missing the mark. Hapless and suffering head injury. Because he couldn’t picture his General genuinely doing... that... to Rex in good health. He had to have been delirious, hurting. The creature standing over yonder adhered to Skywalker’s back like a sticker, however? He could easily picture such a creature attacking Rex. 

It clung to Skywalker like a shy child hiding behind a parent’s leg but the hands were clawed into Skywalker’s tunics over his belly possessively. It certainly looked like the Jedi-that-was-his. The shape was perfectly identical. It had the correct hair color--auburn sunbleached into gaining blonde highlights. Bright blue eyes. The little moles. The same beginnings of crows feet and worry lines. An exquisite approximation of Obi-Wan’s physical form. But the perfection of the shape became superficial because of who- of _ what _ was staring out of those blue eyes. 

Flat. Empty. No depth. Its irises and pupils looked borderline painted on, like a scarily realistic glass-eyed doll. _ Either terrified or bugkark crazy. _Those eyes flickered over the men skittishly from behind dirty blonde curls, never resting in one place for more than a beat, sketchy, predatory. His face, Obi-Wan’s face, was a perfectly flat mask so smooth that years of aging vanished. Too savagely calm to be terrified. A terrifying lack of emotion, more like.

Skywalker was patting one of the hands clawed into his leather mantel. Madness. Obi-Wan’s own padawan didn’t recognize that this was a pod person. Then again, Skywalker had never given enough of a kark about General Kenobi. Cody shouldn’t have been surprised the former padawan didn’t know his master’s heart well enough to appreciate the gravity of such a stark difference. 

And yet, as convinced as Cody was that this was a doppelganger, when the creature’s eyes passed over Cody with zero recognition he still felt heartbreak shatter him like a lightning strike. 

Beyond all expectations those eyes zeroed back to him instantly. 

...Once, the 212th had a crash landing on the _ Negotiator._ The pilot, Jack, had taken fatal damage to his fighter plane and the only way he could put the bird down was to aim for the least populated section of the hangar and pray. Cody had overseen the fiasco-he’d picked the right side hangar, sent out warnings, got maintenance droids to set up signs and do not cross lines, put brothers to guard the doors. Then they towed as many planes as they could aside or to the left side bay, turned the place into an absolute pell-mell of expensive machinery crammed as tight as possible. The entire place looked more like an overstuffed broom closet than a hangar. The pilots he’d spoken to swore that they'd _ probably _ made enough room based off of flight velocity and Jack's lack of brakes. 

Despite the final warning over the intercom some people hadn’t been ready when Jack’s flaming, smoking ship had hurtled into the bay. It honestly sounded no different than any other fighter approach, hum of engines and whoosh of air but with an odd bubbling crackle that was nearly inaudible. Then the plane had made contact with the bay floor and _ boom!_ The deafening slam, the wail of tortured metal, Jack’s plane fripping _ bouncing _ once, _ boom _ again, spinning wildly screeching to a stop only when he slammed straight into the pile of transports and sent several toppling loud as a rockslide. Everyone observing from a safe distance, all the poised medics and the droids armed with fire-retardants, even people in the left side bay with literal dead void of space between them and Jack, all creatures living or otherwise had stopped what they were doing and looked on in mute alarm. 

Suddenly regaining the mimic's attention reminded Cody of that moment of communal mortal fright. 

As a force-insensitive clone, Cody had never experienced any sixth sense before that moment. An awareness he didn’t know he had suddenly informed him that… Gods, he could barely articulate what he sensed! It was as if he’d mistaken a very large, bright, artificial lightbulb as the planet’s sun only to realize, no, it was a spotlight because its field of radiance suddenly contracted and turned to shine on him alone, leaving the rest of PXEL in darkness. He could practically hear that screech of twisting metal accompanying the swivel of that head turning back to him, saw from his periphery every other clone in camp go deathly still. 

The creature gazed with unblinking focus at Cody. Cody could only stare back, beyond words. 

“Obi-Wan,” Skywalker said with forced gentleness, still petting one of the creature’s hands, “That’s Commander Cody. He is your second in command. Which… essentially means you went to him first if you needed something. He was your best friend.” _ No, what-! _

The lookalike turned to meet Skywalker’s gaze questioningly and Cody could breathe again. The spotlight was still trained on him but the glare felt less suffocating with those abyssal eyes drawn away. Then the creature finally unstuck from Skywalker’s side and slunk toward Cody with a carnivorous grace he’d never seen before. Cody backed up a step, jostling the table and instinctively lifting his ass half onto it as if to climb over and escape. Kenobi stopped. Eerily motionless like a hunting beast pausing only to keep its prey from noticing its advance-

A hand gripped the back of Cody’s neck and he flinched.

“Easy,” said Rex, low and even, “Easy…” 

He managed to exhale and forced his muscles to relax. He lowered himself back fully to the ground. Breathed. The only part of the beast that moved were its eyes, flicking between the pair of them. 

Once Cody had relaxed a margin the creature continued advancing more slowly, got just outside of touching distance and started _ sniffing the air audibly. _Whffwhffwhff then a sharp exhale. Opened Obi-Wan’s mouth and took in two wet panting breaths as if tasting the air. Like an animal. A rush of secondhand embarrassment swept through Cody because, oh, carefully cultivated Kenobi would be mortified to see his own visage behaving like this. Even if this were truly Kenobi and not an excellent imposter the Jedi would take it even worse once he regained himself. The creature’s gaze sharpened and it leaned in further as if he could actually scent Cody’s emotions in the air. Maybe he could--one of his hands was half lifted, fingers lifting and lowering out of sync as if feeling for an air current, a behavior he’d seen countless times from every Jedi he'd ever met. 

Another step closer. Then the creature straightened and his brows knit, head cocked, breathing beautiful life into those hollow features. 

“Are you ok?” Kenobi’s mimic asked with genuine concern. Cody’s entire world tipped off center.

Apparently a part of him still bought the amnesia thing. Holo dramas led him to expect the loss of Obi-Wan’s trademark accent, one so distinctive that Cody assumed his Jedi was a snooty fop when they first met. He _ was _ a snooty fop, of course, but he wasn't expecting to hear that Coruscanti silver spoon on the creature’s tongue too. 

Skywalker’s jaw dropped.

“No,” Cody choked. 

Obi-Wan let out a sympathetic little hum, eyeing him with open concern, straight and tall and civilized as if his fangs had been tucked into his pocket casual as you please. 

A hand calloused by heavy lightsaber use lifted to gently brush at Cody’s hair. Cody flinched back, rattling everything on the table violently. The creature stopped dead again, eyes flat and glossy as if the glimpse of the being he knew and loved had merely been an illusion. 

It stared at him for a long hair raising moment. The hand slowly drew away. With each frantic heartbeat that passed a thoughtful, wary look crept into Obi-Wan’s blue eyes. Then without visible prompting he turned sharply and walked away.

The brothers in his path stumbled or full on leapt out of the predator’s way. That startled the skittish lookalike, sent it into a low deadly prowl that danced it past them with awe inspiring agility out of camp. 

"Kix, with me," General Skywalker snapped, striding long legged after the impersonator. The medic followed without missing a beat and Skywalker didn't seem to care about Jesse playing tagalong to his partner. Cody watched them go numbly. 

"That went well," Rex remarked. 

"You did good, Rex. You were right. I didn't want to see that."

Rex looked at him with sad eyes for a moment before straightening and clapping his hands and yelling, "Alright, ladies, gather round! We need to have a little chat now that you've met feral Kenobi!"

**Anakin**

Kenobi took to the trees but was nice enough to remain visible for them- an obvious invitation to follow if Anakin had ever seen one. For his part, Anakin was nice enough to wade among the mangroveys with his men. 

Their little field trip inevitably became a scientific investigation on Obi-Wan. The clones all had a disadvantage on natural-born psyche but he felt the two with him had a decent grasp on what was most important. At least, Kix did. Jesse was a little hit or miss. 

How much Basic did he understand? What ways can we test his comprehension? Did he remember any of them as people, as friends? What did he remember of the Republic military? On being a Jedi? How much remained of his strategic mind? How much help would he need in daily life, how long until he reintegrated? They needed answers ASAP from both a personal and military perspective. Each of them fiddled with the same puzzle as they followed Obi-Wan into the unknown. His own observations were as followed:

Item: _ Obi-Wan had no interest in telling them where they were going. Antisocial if not for how he periodically stopped and waited before he lost sight of them. Then he’d turn without comment and continue his journey. He didn’t care whether they could see him, though. _

Conclusion: Typical. 

Item: _ Obi-Wan barely glanced back at his name and stared blankly when spoken to. Kix tried whistling sharply for attention which made the Jedi go stock still and bright eyed before the novelty wore off. Obi-Wan liked whistling once he’d learned it, though, and with a childlike glee he started twittering to guide them. _

Conclusion: Obi-Wan's comprehension of Basic seemed to come and go. Anakin still hadn’t recovered from the short little bomb of a sentence he’d dropped on Cody. He still hadn’t heard words within Obi-Wan’s mind even when he’d spoken. Ani had no idea what to think of that. 

Item: _ Anakin tapping on Obi-Wan’s mental shoulder was brushed off, tolerant but firm. Queries were batted away with the same distracted forbearance. _

_ “Frankly, sir, I don’t know how you can be so cheerful about this.” _

_ “Oh, Just… Master is being funny. So, I’ve been reaching out through our bond, yes? Asking him to slow down and where the kark are we going? And he just… keeps brushing me off. Like, _ ' That’s nice, sweetie, now go put the dirt back in the yard.' _ Amazing how master managed to keep the ‘long suffering creche master’ thing when he’s retained nothing else.” _

_ “Ahnakin, I’m busy climbing this tree. Go play with the other children.” _

Conclusion: _ Typical. _But another encouraging sign that Obi-Wan was just as much of an insufferable dickhead as before! 

Item: _ The purpose of their journey did not become apparent until they turned a corner round a thicket to find his master perched on the back of a thrashing and bleeding notadeer. He held the splashing beast's head under the water with clinical detachment. _

_ "Oh. Breakfast!" Jesse blurted, relieved, then cupped his hands and called out, "Nice catch, sir!" _

_ Obi-Wan looked up and, astonishingly, gave him a thumbs up in return. _

Conclusion: The display proved he apparently remembered inconsequential banthashit. And definitely understood basic? 

Item: _ By the time they plodded close, he'd already hung the beast by wedging its head into a convenient fork in a tree. The beast’s trunk hung belly-out with its absurdly long legs poking out at stiff angles. They watched as Obi-Wan arranged the animal to his satisfaction before pulling a long, wicked looking black and silver dagger that was absolutely not standard issue out of his belt. Jesse leaned away when its hide was unzipped from chin to groin. Obi-Wan didn’t seem to care about the gore coating his arms to the elbow or soaking into his robes. The amnesiac clearly knew what he was doing--he shoved the skin out of the way and began scooping the useless viscera out into the water with farmerlike indifference. Jesse, good man, despite initial squeamishness pestered Obi-Wan to let him help. Jesse got a bloody hand-pat stain to the top of his bucket for the trouble. _

Conclusion: All of this implied he had some understanding of wilderness survival and nutrition, that there was more rattling around in his head than… _ nothing._ Was still just an asshole who insisted on doing everything himself unless help was forced upon him. More encouraging retention of personality! 

Item: _Obi-Wan casually sucked blood off his fingers. _

_ “... That is perfectly normal,” said Anakin carefully. _

_ “Oh, is it?” Jesse replied in an even more careful tone. _

_ “Yep. Blood is actually pretty nutritious. Good for when you’re stranded in the wilderness.” _

_ "Uh-huh.” _

_ “He’s not wrong, unfortunately,” Kix sighed, reluctantly, probably already compiling what treatments he had to schedule, "Animal blood is safe in small quantities. It's harder to catch illnesses from a different species. If these particular aliens were unsafe he would have been dead by now. So. Out of character but fine.” _

_ “He’s got amnesia!” said Anakin, “He probably doesn’t even know what a ration bar is. Of course he's been hunting.” _

_ "Yeah… I guess. Just hard to watch. Eugh." _

Conclusion: Far, _ far _ less straight laced and concerned with appearances than he used to be. Maybe when Obi-Wan returned to himself he’d be...

Item: _ Jesse made a mournful honking noise. Kix’s eyes flicked past Ani at the sound then bulged. Anakin turned just in time to watch Obi-Wan cut a hunk of raw meat out of the kinda-deer and take a big wet bite. _

_ Even he drew the line at raw meat, “Ok, eugh, that’s not normal. No no nono, oh, stars, ew! Obi-Wan, no!” _

_ Obi-Wan looked up when Anakin approached and blunk nonplussed when Jesse muscled between him and the sorta-deer. When Anakin reached for the slab casually held in his off hand like an apple he shifted it away, brows knit, offended. And, horrifyingly, they heard Obi-Wan try to communicate with his mouth again. But this time his speech didn't even remotely resemble the accented Basic from earlier. His master let out an annoyed garbled mishmash of noises, absolute gibberish that sounded more like snarls trying to be articulate than anything resembling words. Anakin stopped short for a second at the wretched almost-speech. Obi-Wan glared sidelong at him before going in for another chomp. _

_ "Obi-Wan, no! That is so bad for you, please stop-!" _

_ It was when Anakin grabbed his arm that his master growled a deep noise he’d never heard a baseline human make. He didn't think that humans _ could _ make such a noise. It was more like something Ashoka would rattle out during frustrating fights. Or angry Zabrak noises. In that moment he barely looked human. His nose was wrinkled from his bloody teeth baring snarl, bloody hands and arms, gore smeared all over his beard and, oh kriff, there was even some in his hair. _

_ Anakin immediately lifted his hands and stepped back in surender. _

Conclusion:

  
  


"You're gonna let him eat that?!” Kix demanded furious but unable to look away as Obi-Wan slurped down the rest of his snack.

Skywalker continued smiling without humor, “I am picking my battles, boys. Fear not. All things in due time.” 

“Nope! Nope! Absolutely not, we are teaching him to cook immediately!” hooted Jesse. 

The medic groaned, "Noo, it's too late... Any damage has already been done. We gotta educate him once he's more receptive. We can give him a full battery of tests, get him de-wormed... one more, uh, meal until then won't hurt." 

Obi-Wan wasn't receptive to much of anything judging by the glare he cut over the lot of them. The peace with the mad Jedi was so fragile that, as much as it disgusted Anakin to admit it, they couldn't afford to alienate Obi-Wan now. Skywalker deflated, grinning with that aw-shucks boyish wince that actually had a good payout on Obi-Wan historically. 

"Master? Master I'm sorry. It was rude of me to speak to you that way.”

Obi-Wan paused. Then after a beat his brows raised and he sighed as if to say _ 'what am I going to do with you?' _ Then he dug out another chunk of meat, tugged one of Anakin's hands up and slapped the still life-warm meat into his bare palm. 

As an additional reward for his apology, Obi-Wan caught his chin with tacky fingers to deposit a gore-wet motherly kiss on his mouth. 

Anakin stared into the middle distance while his brain fumbled and the clones tried hard not to lose it. 

_ “[But master,](https://youtu.be/jA9ksYF1ZRs) you were the one who always taught me to feed off the living force!” _

_ “That’s not what I-...ugh.” _

Anakin may have karmically brought this upon himself. 

But he was not going to stand there and be mocked and he stood by what he said. So he narrowed his eyes at Jesse and licked his lips clean. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic brought to you by the song Toes by Glass Animals and those PERFECT lyrics.


	4. Getting There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which bachelor #3 is introduced and Cody is bribed.  
Citrus scale 1-2/10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “[ ]” = POV character talking on comms  
[“ “] = nearby non-pov character on comms  
[ ] = distant non-pov character on comms
> 
> ****  
Inspiration:  
1\. https://glorious-sea-pancakes.tumblr.com/post/189629376415/localsourseagull-obi-wan-wears-like-53-layer-of  
2\. https://glorious-sea-pancakes.tumblr.com/post/189383698910  
3\. https://glorious-sea-pancakes.tumblr.com/post/189284994870/arc-trooper-headcanon-that-the-clones-get  
4\. Toes by Glass Animals and those PERFECT lyrics.

**EARLIER**

_ "Alright, ladies, gather round! We need to have a little chat now that you've met feral Kenobi!" _

  
  


_ "Brain damage doesn't work like that." _

  
  


_ "How can you look at that thing and think that's him? In what universe? I thought you cared about him." _

_ [I thought you loved him!?] _

_ "This is a blatant security risk. Separatist banthashit. After everything we've seen I wouldn't put it past them." _

  
  


_ "… He is or he isn't. And we all have to make a choice we can live with." _

*******

**A LITTLE LATER**

**Cody**

Cody stood in the lair of Kenobi’s mimic, feeling more lost and hopeless than he'd ever felt in his life. Waxer and Boil were kind enough to give him space, standing as far off as the relatively small space would allow while pretending to examine the little room. They feigned interest poorly, having seen it all before, and both knew better than to disturb the lair more than they already had.

He knew that underneath their helmets they were watching him. Rex might have assigned the scouts to babysit him. But they may well have assigned themselves. 

The commander in him approved--clones handled loneliness poorly, after all. Cody would never let a brother handle emotional… shock… without close monitoring. To a man they were bred to be pack predators. Social. Dependant on support structures. 

Yet it was an unwelcome feeling to be the guy who needed watching. But he knew he needed it. He felt… helpless. Bewildered. His entire body ached like a rotten tooth.

"I don't know what I expected," Cody whispered. 

Boil lifted his head from his false scrutiny of a bone, "What were you expecting, sir?" 

_ Piles of shit in the corners. Like an animal, _ he realized with no small amount of shame. _ Proof that a beast stole Obi-Wan’s face. _

Cody remembered Obi-Wan's face, his stupid beautiful face, and lost the space to breathe. He closed his eyes and gulped around the pain of it, grateful for the privacy of his helm. Waxer gently rubbed a palm along his shoulders and Cody let it rock him a little, grateful for the touch even dulled by his armor, breathed until he could open his eyes and lift his head. 

He wasn’t even sure what he expected beyond validation for the loss-fueled anger he felt howling in his heart. Or what he _ wanted _. Maybe, with some wishful thinking, an indication that Obi-Wan wasn't gone. Some hidden message, a clue to cure him, a memento mori. 

Instead the lair was a confusing combination of animal and man which confirmed nothing. 

Apparently, Skywalker and his team discovered the lair just before not-Obi-Wan discovered Rex. The room had been partially caved in by an explosion, leaving one wall a riot of blackened debris with a gap just big enough for a grown human male to... Fit big game corpses through, apparently, judging by the rusty drag-marks they’d followed in. With such a grisly runway it was no small wonder that Cody feared the worst. 

(... in a more charitable mindset, Cody was able to acknowledge the drag marks were old, faded, and never refreshed. He read the story they told; instinct had led the mimic to secure his kill but inexperience brought the animal home. Dismay taught it that corpses were filthy and gutting them had no business near a bed. The trails outside told him of the subsequent attempts to relocate food prep to different rooms and their staleness informed that practice had been abandoned and relocated when scavengers became a nuisance.) 

The burrow itself was…

… A pile of cloth dominating the floor space, both new and old to the point of falling apart, mixed in with hand-tanned skins and furs. They lay in a slightly stiff, rumpled pile supplemented with miscellaneous grasses, cottony fluff, and tufts of fur-- like a birds nest-- in an obvious bid to avoid sleeping on the hard stone floor. The overall creation was… inevitably stinky but honestly not half as bad as it could have been. The scent of animal musk was downright mild. Outside, there were many works in progress freshly scraped of as much living flesh as possible, ruthlessly cleaned then laid out to dry on every free chunk of rubble. Amateur work but Cody knew he couldn’t do much better. Not-Kenobi was lucky to have an overabundance of salt water to help clean and tan the furs. Cody could only imagine how cold nights were on PXEL. 

Nearby floor space was taken up by a neat pile of animal bones, recently picked clean and cracked open to get at the marrow. The bones had been shoved into a droid torso turned into improvised trash can. Obi-Wan’s mimic was clearly fastidious enough to take out his garbage regularly. 

If that had been it, Cody may have been satisfied by his initial assessment that they were dealing with an unusually intelligent animal.

Except… the mimic had been… it had been _ drying flowers._ The colorful flora was bundled with repurposed wire and string, grouped into pretty decayed bushels or hung from the wooden rafters bracing the ceiling. Hung too were many handmade wind chimes, mobiles, and knick-knacks made from glass, droid parts, or shiny shells. They gleamed in the light from the iridescent glass strip of a window that lined the outer wall, throwing dapples of rainbow light randomly through the burrow. One little chime displayed the most tiny and delicate of shells strung together by human hair which gleamed a pinkish copper in the light.

Rocks and bits of interestingly shaped wood (and one admittedly cool looking horned animal skull of worrying size with eyesockets full of dead flowers) were lined up on the uneven shelves made by the jagged surfaces of the partially collapsed wall. An absolutely derelict piece of furniture, what may have once been a decorative end table, had been repaired and positioned in the perfect spot for sunlight to shine down on an upside down and emptied out_ clanker head _. Because, naturally, the mimic had stuffed it full of silty soil to serve as a pot for a single delicate flower with lavender petals. The soil was dark from a recent watering. 

He crouched to examine piles of in-progress little art projects littering the floor. The guts of a B1 battle droid lay half salvaged for wires, shiny circuit boards, anything reflective, then arranged into neat piles next to a half-assembled mobile. This pretty little decoration had pieces of pumice tied into concentric circles like orbiting planets by copper wire. He picked up a small, weathered, pale green curved piece of glass that might have once been part of a bottle. 

"You know…" murmured Cody, "someone once told me that desire for beauty, the urge to create art, is the surest sign of sentience." 

"Hnh. I guess I've never seen a droid paint," Boil mused. 

Cody snorted. True enough. 

Any of the droid pieces could have been _ useful. _ To build various pieces of tech, for instance. Cody had plenty of personal anecdotes proving Obi-Wan knew how to assemble one or two himself. Definitely enough material in town to craft a distress signal. Yet here lay art. 

"Where did you hear that?" asked Waxer. 

Cody thumbed the piece of glass like a worry stone, staring out into nothing, murmured, "Jango," before he stood, looking upon the scavenged living space, overwhelmed, with an aching heart. 

_ … He is or he isn't. And we all have to make a choice we can live with. _

When had Rex become so wise? 

Cody had been barreling for the war path, righteously angry and _ hurting _ . A hurt that fanned the flames of vengeance already brewing in his heart. He'd been organizing his condemnations like troops, roaring and breathing fire, eager, no, _ desperate _ to get the _ vode _ as bloodthirsty as him. 

And then… Rex was… So stalwart, so kind, a better man than Cody could ever hope to be. Rex with that deceptively mild look on his face that he got sometimes. His voice calm. Thoughtful. 

_ Either you decide this is him--our General, our _ Jetti, ori'vod-- _ so you love him. Help him. Make him comfortable while he heals. Or… you decide this isn't him. What do you do? _

_ How will you treat this being? With cruelty and suspicion? Ask… could you live with your choice if it turned out this _ is _ Obi-Wan Kenobi after all? Could you live with yourself even if he isn't, knowing how you treated a fellow sentient? Even if this isn't _ ner Jetti… _ I will give him my help. Not foolishly, not blindly. Just… with a little faith. I would rather live with knowing I tried to help a being in need, knowing I gave him the benefit of the doubt, gave him a chance, than live with being a callous man. Because even if this isn't the person I care about, I believe I have kindness for anyone. I know what General Kenobi would be proud of. _

Hell, _ Cody _ was the proud one.

Cody was ashamed of himself, however. Words of mercy had so effectively neutered his anger, cut him at the knee and exposed him for the mean, frightened monkey that he really was.

Now here he was, invading the personal space of… Of maybe-Kenobi, staring at his bed and imagining the months spent cobbling together something warm so the poor thing wouldn't have to sleep on the cold, hard stone. _ Stars, _ when had he become so heartless? Cody stared at the incongruous little bedroom, stared dumbly at the fucking adorable flowerpot, eyes burning puffy and stinging, and just… 

… not knowing what to do. 

He wasn't sure how long Waxer had been holding him while crooning supportive nonsense. Had probably been lost in his head for a while. He pulled off his bucket and hooked it to his belt with the greatest reluctance, only exposing himself because the leakage from his eyes couldn't be blunk away. Waxer burbled sympathetic noises when he saw Cody's face. Boil grumbled and squeezed the back of his neck. 

He waved away their fretting, "I'm fine, I'm fine," and snorted back the tear-backwash into his sinuses. 

The scouts stood silent vigil to Cody scrubbing his face clean with the rough texture of his gauntlets and politely listened to him honk into a tissue from the little pack in his utility belt. He poked the soiled tissue into the mimic's improvised trash can for lack of a better place to put it. 

When he was finished sighing some of the pressure out of his soul but before he could retreat into his bucket, Boil stepped closer, "Sir. We found this. Something happened to it before… Whatever happened to him, uh, happened. General Skywalker took what was left of the crystals, but… We thought you might want to have this."

Cody accepted the casing of his Jedi's lightsaber from Boil numbly. Lightsabers were surprisingly hardy instruments built to last. Obi-Wan's especially--the man was practical about his tools if nothing else. Thus, his lightsaber had survived the explosion surprisingly well. The mouth had broken off and the belly melted open where the Jedi's palm would have gripped it. Inside the battery was a charred, foul smelling wreck. Enough survived to barely fit in Cody's tight grip. Obi-Wan's essence was infused into this broken instrument, he knew, the sweat of his palms and red of his blood soaked in on a microscopic level. In the Force. 

He struggled to swallow around the gut punch of the sight, hating apparent symbolism of the damn thing but unable to throw it away. Because… Cody always retrieved Obi-Wan's saber. That was his job: find and safekeep his lightsaber when he lost it, give him shit for losing it, be secretly terrified of his Jedi's suicidal tendencies. 

He was jolted out of the fugue of misery when his comm chirped. His brain surfaced like a bubble popping, gasping for fresh air. He fumbled to press at his wrist, instinctively clipping the remains of Obi-Wan's lightsaber to his belt from pure muscle memory. He pocketed the shard of glass as well after a moment of hesitation. 

[Dropoff Gold-Zero-Niner reporting.]

Yes, Cody was wide awake. Waxer politely stepped away, giving him room to reply, "[Commander CC-2224 here. Gold-Zero-Niner, go ahead.]”

The troll on the other end drawled, [Copy. We've got two good boys, two bedsheets, and one meatboat incoming at eight o' clock, sir. Eta… eight minutes. All clear.]

Cody stared at his comm for a moment. Boil and Waxer both stared at his wrist with equal consternation. 

“[What's your serial number, trooper?]” Cody asked in a hard, higher pitched, incredulous, and slightly pissed off tone.

“Oops,” chuckled Boil. 

[CT-68118 AKA Killsalldroids, sir.] Replied the vod while failing to smother a laugh. In the background, he could hear a voice that almost certainly belonged to Echo lecturing on comm etiquette. 

Crackle. Another pause as Cody mulled over how to react to that. Then, “[That was awful. Bedsheets? Meat boat? Like I have any clue what the frip that means. Welcome party en-route ETA four minutes. Keep me advised.]”

[Sir yes sir.] 

Cody didn't give himself a moment. He disconnected the line, then stepped further into the room, head tilted back to examine the various hanging decorations, stepping to look--

Yeah. Thought so. Cody reached up and grabbed one of the chimes, pulling a slow steady pressure. The improvised nail securing it popped out easily, had probably been a huge pain in the ass and fell on the mimic's head many times. Waxer sputtered disapprovingly, but Cody ignored him and examined the droid hard drive turned decoration piece. 

Boil leaned in past Cody’s shoulder to peer at it too, “Tsk. That’s in pretty good condition. Think we can get any information out of it?”

“That’s the idea,” muttered Cody, turning his palm to carefully grip the neck of the art piece in one hand and cradled the droid brain in the other then parted them with a gentle yank. The hard drive was held to the rest of the piece by Obi-Wan-red hair--it stretched unsettlingly before snapping. 

(He was careful to not damage the little creation more than necessary. He laid it along the floor beside the in-progress crafts before he left.) 

**Killsalldroids**

Killsalldroids didn't understand all the fuss over feral Kenobi.

He knew he was fairly young as far as clone troopers went. But his armor hadn’t been shiny white for some time--he’d served enough rotations to know that shrugging and going along with the crazy worked pretty damn well as a survival technique. So when a scandalized brother sidled up to gossip with him about feral Kenobi, Killsall had shrugged, smirked, and asked, _ “But did we die?” _

Killsall was a bit of a deece. But, _ honestly. _ The man hadn’t actually hurt any of them. Captain Rex was the only one damaged and he hadn’t held a grudge. Hell, it was already established that _ they _ had been scaring _ him _ and Kenobi still hadn't lashed out. 

So... Whatever, right?

Thus, watching Cody (who clearly if understandably did _ not _ fancy the new Kenobi) struggle to cope was both hilarious and excruciating. 

… The commander had been given a gift! Fresh nerf steak breakfast (a worthy gift in Killsall's estimation). The commander's face couldn’t decide between 'flattered' or 'gutted.' The ending display was a tiny rictus pretending to be a smile, devastated pinkened eyes, and brows lifted in dismay. 

_ Come on, Cody, _ Killsall prayed silently from where he stood pretending to be a good watchman, _ accept the olive branch. How could you look at that face and say no? _ Killsall certainly couldn’t--Kenobi _ was so transparent _ about how badly he wanted the commander’s approval. His eyes were big and full of tentative hope, flicking back and forth between Cody and the dead nerf-thing he’d presented to the man, body language low and submissive. Definitely not classic High General Obi-Wan Kenobi behavior but Killsall understood and appreciated the effort the Jedi was putting in to be as non threatening as possible.

Nobody dared interfere. Cody had to accept the gesture or reject it on his own. Damn shame they were all here to put pressure on him; He wanted to give Cody privacy to grapple with the pickle he’d found himself in but he, Echo, Brody, Kix, Jesse, Waxer, Boil, _ and _ General Skywalker stood captive audience to the moment. 

(Ok, admittedly, Killsall was also telling Hotshot what was going on. He always invited Hotshot to his chatter lines even when deployed separately. Because Hotshot's spotter, a _ vod _ named Peeper, rarely if ever spoke and social butterfly Hotshot was usually bored to tears. They worked well together but definitely worked better when Hotshot wasn't pricking at the poor guy.)

Blessedly, the balance tipped when something inside the commander gave way and he slumped. 

“.... Thank you,” Cody murmured softly, finally favoring Kenobi with a small soul-tired smile, “This is a very thoughtful gift. I’m sure the men will appreciate something to eat besides ration bars.”

Kenobi straightened. The universal pang of _ 'aw, shit, does he understand words?' _ passed when after a beat the amnesiac Jedi _ beamed, _his hands clasped together in front of him with a little head-wiggle of pure delight. Every clone with an exposed face went visibly blank from the sudden bullet-to-the-head smile. Even Skywalker jammed. Killsall was pretty sure the man had dimples under his beard. 

Killsalldroids immediately opened the private line between himself, Echo, Brody, and Hotshot, "[Stars, but he's pretty.]" 

[Cody?] asked Hotshot. 

"[_ No? _ His ugly mug? Ugh.]" 

Their snorts of reply came through as a garbled burst of static. 

Pretty smiles non withstanding, Commander Cody still looked overwhelmed as the Jedi sniffed in his direction. Then feral Kenobi swayed closer to him, tentative. Bolder when Cody didn’t reject or spook, stepped closer. Closer, right in front of him. A hand tentatively lifted, lowered, lifted, which Cody watched warily but allowed to eventually touch his hair with the lightest of fingertips. Then the Jedi started smiling again before rudely sniffing right at commander’s face, which he tolerated by scrunching his eyes shut and going very still. 

They watched it all with growing amusement while doing a better job of pretending privacy than Skywalker, who had a hand over his mouth to disguise a grin. Killsall’s amusement increased when feral Kenobi, satisfied he had mortified Cody enough, suddenly pressed his forehead to the shorter man’s brow. Like a lothcat headbutting for affection, smiling contentedly, nose to nose and not moving away. The commander’s eyes popped open with astonishment but, again, he didn’t move away. Kenobi stayed pressed against him with a small but glowing smile, eyes closed in happy crescents, fingers combing deep and slow through his commander's hair. 

Killsall shared a speaking glance with Echo, who had turned in time to see that. 

“[Cody just got a _ keldabe kiss, _]" Killsall murmured into his comm for Brody and Hotshot's benefit. 

[D'aww…] 

["More like _ keldabe _ makeouts,"] Echo corrected. The comm warbled with the grainy register of Brody's whistle.

Killsall returned to his vigil, focusing his attention back onto the empty boring forest, letting Echo take his turn to peep on the proceedings behind him. His brother’s bucket was turned just enough for the outer edge of his visor to allow a sly eye behind them.

Echo didn’t get long before his entire body tensed. Killsall felt a thrill of alarm, wanted to check, to see what was going on, but instead he forced his focus on the boring nothingness out beyond--

Echo wrenched around to look fully to out over the forest and the gaggle of voices behind them lifted into discordant bleats of alarm, _ ‘Aw, master!’ ‘ohohoho-!’ _

Echo was strangely silent on the matter, standing in perfect parade rest, blaster held formally in his hands. 

On the other side of Echo, Brody keyed in, helm tilting, [“What? What is it? --OH.”] Then he went just as tall, straight, and orderly as Echo but didn’t turn back to the watchman duty so Killsall could take a turn, still angled a little transparently toward the party behind them. 

[What? What’s happening?] 

“[Echo? Brody?]” asked Killsall.

Echo was utterly silent. Brody too. 

[Seriously, what the fuck is going on?]

“[God damn it, if you’re not gonna say then at least stop bogarting!]” Killsall growled, wishing feverishly that he had something to throw at Brody. He was a professional, though, and angrily continued scanning the horizon for threats. 

He figured it out seconds later when the blurts of dismay behind him reached a crescendo and a _ naked body _ careened past him to cannonball into the water. 

Ah. That was a lot more of Kenobi than he’d expected to see today. Not that he was complaining. Killsall was notorious for being a little loose insofar as clones went, so he only went into embarrassed parade rest for a moment before relaxing. Echo made a sound like a deflating balloon. 

He lazily keyed into their line, “[General Kenobi decided now is a great time to take a bath, is all. Full monty. Poor Echo and Brody do not compute.]” 

Echo unfreezes, [“Hey, fuck you.”] 

“[Error, Error, Echo.exe not found.]”

[_ “Fuck you.” _]

“[Roger roger,]” Killsall purred. 

[Need a tune up, baby?]

Brody just burst out laughing. 

Kenobi finally surfaced in a wet burst, flipping his longer than usual hair back which had darkened to a deep scarlet, sputtering, then smiled with closed eyes and a happy sigh. 

Killsall shifted his gaze to the Jedi periodically, like he was trying to change the song on a playlist while piloting a speeder at the same time. Up at the road/forest, down to the radio/naked man, up, down. 

He really was a pretty,_ pretty _man. And surprisingly shredded, too, the line of his shoulders and arms nicely sculpted, belly hard and flat with defined lines... leaner and less stacked than the clones, sure, but a credit chit would ricochet fast off any part of that body. Hm. 

Killsalldroids cocked his head thoughtfully, “[He’s a lot more muscular than I expected.]”

[Voyeur,] Hotshot snickered.

Echo tossed his head slightly, [“Says the sniper.”] 

[“I get what you mean, though?”] mused Brody, [“He always seemed kind of… soft? Under all of those robes?”]

“[I thought that using the force to flip around was easier than doing it the old fashioned way, but looking at his biceps? Those abs? Maybe not.]” 

[“Kenobi is a scrappy shit, too,”] said Echo. 

“[Scars for days,]” Killsall agreed, then flipped off of the private comm and turned when he heard the distinctive soft footfalls of a Jedi approach. 

Skywalker’s eyes snapped to his visor immediately and Killsall realized he'd singled himself out. Behind him, Cody, Waxer, Jesse, Kix, and Boil were already gone with the carcass. If he didn't get some nerf steak he was revolting. 

“Ah, trooper… Killsalldroids, right? Not sure I’ve had the chance to properly meet you face to face. You transferred in this rotation if I’m not mistaken?” asked his new General as he moved to stand between Killsall and Echo by the water’s edge. They all watched over the forest, pretending they weren't distracted by Kenobi swishing the crystalline water through his hair in front of them. 

Killsall was still a little surprised Skywalker remembered every single one of their names and identifiers, “Sir. From 91st Mobile Reconnaissance Corps.” 

“Ohhhh! You were one of Windu’s! Everything makes so much sense now…” Echo said mournfully, hanging his head. Killsalldroids humph'd proudly. 

Skywalker smiled, blue gaze intent on Killsall which he met with his bland visor, “How’s the 501st blue settling on your _ beskargam _?”

“Well enough,” Killsall shrugged, “I’ll get used to not being red eventually. At least I’m not Hotshot, who is _ still _ bitching about not being a pretty 187th-purple [ shaupaut ](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Shaupaut) anymore.”

Hotshot switched onto the open local line to grouse, [My spots looked so much cooler in purple. They look dumb in blue.]

Skywalker’s grin widened, “He’s more like a [ granite slug ](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Granite_slug/Legends).”

[“[ Alderaan grazer ](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Grazer_\(Alderaan\)),”] Echo cut in without missing a beat. Skywalker snapped his fingers and pointed at him with approval. Killsall and Brody both slapped against the sides of their blasters in agreement.

[Hey, just a friendly reminder that I have a high caliber rifle.]

“[Shoot me, bitch. Do it.]” commed Killsall. 

Skywalker threw his head back and laughed, clapped Killsall on the shoulder, “You fit like a glove already.” 

A splash. They all reflexively looked to the source and Killsalldroids learned that Obi-Wan was a natural redhead because he’d stood in the water to wring out his hair. The water level was the exact height where exposed lower stomach came perilously close to upper dick. Skywalker did a full body wince and leaned away with a grimace, holding a hand out to block the view. 

“Look… can I trust you boys to keep an eye on him? I am going to go find some dry clothes and maybe some toiletries for him because I don’t want to watch my master’s naked ass bathe.” 

Echo straightened and saluted, “We’ll keep an eye on him, sir.” Brody echoed Echo with a smart salute and Killsall followed suit a beat after. 

“Thank god. I’ll be back in a few, ping me if anything changes,” Their General puffed with genuine gratitude, “Master! I’ll be back in a jiffy, ok? And I’ll bring something nice that will help you get clean.” Kenobi paused halfway through scrubbing at his beard to give Skywalker a thumbs up. Skywalker grinned, spun, and half-jogged away. Killsall watched him go until he turned a corner around a building and disappeared.

Suddenly, they were alone with a naked Obi-Wan Kenobi and collectively realized they had no idea how to act. Brody’s ankles clicked as he drew back into the cannula-instinct parade rest. Killsall drew his lips into a hard line and decided that indulging in watching was a bad idea. Nobody spoke for a long time.

  
  
  


[Guys?]

[“…We’re fucked, Hotshot.”]

“[I don’t think you thought this through, Echo.]” 

["General Skywalker sure didn't."] 

[_ Use your words, children. _ God, being a sniper is a huge pain in the ass sometimes.] 

[“You’re a pain in the ass.”] 

“[We’ve been tasked with _keeping an eye_ _on Kenobi_ while he bathes.]” 

[Ah. I’ll say your remembrances.]

  
  
  
  
  
  


[“... Ok. Name the best Jedi.”]

[“Commander Tano.”] 

“[... Good answer. I would have expected you to say Skywalker.]”

[“Nah, he’s right. Commander Tano is cooler,”] 

[Seconded.]

“[Thirded.]”

“[Okay, top five Jedi with Tano as the assumed first place. Make your arguments.]” 

[“Skywalker second place, obviously.”] 

[Iiii don’t know… Windu is pretty badass.] 

[“Oh come off it, Skywalker remembers our names. He's a clone's best friend.”]

[So does Windu! And _ he _ isn’t a psychopath with a death wish.] 

[“Windu is a hard ass.”]

[You’re damn right he’s got a hard ass. And an eight pack.]

“[But is it better than General Secura’s eight pack?]” 

[“Guys, _ please, _ stop talking about abs and asses! Boner killing thoughts only, thanks.”] 

[".... Right."] 

  
  
  


"[... I'd fuck him in a heartbeat.]" 

  
  
  


_ Oh fuck, _ Kenobi turned and stared at them. As if he'd heard their private, silent conversation. The back of Killsalldroids' neck prickled. 

Feral Kenobi smiled long and slow, eyes sly. They wisely stayed silent, even when Kenobi sunk into the water and swam toward them. He parted a school of silvery fish as he approached, surfaced in near silence a meter or so away. 

Killsall clicked out of the private com without looking away, cleared his throat and tentatively murmured, "Hello, sir."

"Sir," Brody and Echo echoed hoarsely. 

Kenobi’s cheeks unexpectedly flushed pink and his smile turned a tad bashful. Water plinked off of his hair and chin. 

"... Hi." 

A fierce jolt of excitement zinged through his belly. It was so strange--this was a man they had all talked to before, even if only during an exchange of orders. The man had been dubbed _ the Negotiator _because of his eloquence. And now they were all leaning forward practically to their toetips from one syllable, rapt for another. 

Killsall shifted his hands on his blaster and licked his lips, said again, "Hi."

"Hi," Echo breathed, voice openly eager. 

Kenobi's smile widened and he swam closer, parroting, "Hi." 

"Heh. Hi," Brody said while squirming in place. 

"Hello," Kenobi replied, a laugh in his voice.

[You guys sound obnoxious. Peeper has the most disgusted look on his face listening to you stooges, it's hilarious.] 

Kenobi looked around, unsure where the voice was coming from, probably had been wondering for some time. Echo lifted a calming hand and pulled off his helmet to show the inside to the Jedi, "That's Hotshot, a _ vod _ like us. He isn't here, but we have connections in our helmets," knock knock against his bucket, "that let us talk to him from a distance." 

Kenobi relaxed, then sloshed a little closer. 

Killsall cleared his voice, "Sir, I…" he faltered a moment when that flat blue focused on him but rallied quickly, "I'm sorry for my comment earlier, that was inappropriate."

Obi-Wan's eyebrow lifted elegantly and his face went playfully coy. He swam right up to the water's edge and Killsall obligingly knelt just far enough back to let the feral Jedi mantel himself up, not exiting the water but leaning right into his space. The man was smiling like a shark. 

He'd never been drawn to General Kenobi before this strongly. But now? He was fascination incarnate. 

Wet fingers lightly touched the cheek of Killsall's bucket, nose to helmet, tension sharp enough to taste. Kenobi relaxed backward, sunk slightly down into the water. He automatically adjusted to keep them close and naturally ended up looming, just as Kenobi pressed a feather light teasing kiss to the front of his helm. Skin prickling with hot flashing sweat, he dared to slide a gloved hand down the Jedi's wet flank despite the lack of sensation through his gloves, snuck down his belly, dragging a knuckle teasingly--

When the protest came it wasn't from a direction he was expecting. 

** _"WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING, SOLDIER?"_ ** a voice roared behind them. Kenobi flailed and fell backward into the water and almost drug a surprised Killsall with him. 

Cody stomped, actually stomped, up behind the still-kneeling Echo and slapped his helmet clean out of his hands. It plopped into the water sadly, bobbed and spun thankfully upside down on its waterproof top. 

"You!" Cody snarled, pointing a finger at Kenobi like a weapon, "No flirting with the men. Yes, you, go on! Get! Clean up already!" then shooed the Jedi master like a goose. 

Kenobi let himself be shooed, stuck his nose in the air and flounced away into deeper water. But not before raising his arms teasingly over his head and putting himself on display with a rebellious stretch and turn. His ribs shifted under his skin, stomach flattening and elongating with a clench, exaggerating the gentle divot above his belly button, highlighting the narrowness of his hips-- Killsall got a slap to the back of his helmet, knocking his brain into the water after Echo’s helmet. 

"That is a Jedi master and your military superior," the commander hissed poisonously, "and he's not gonna be happy when he gets his memory back. So if I catch any of you fucking him, flirting with him, or generally canoodling I'm gonna _ unroll you by your entrails!" _

Killsall, already blank with chastisement, watched incredulously as Cody went pale as a sheet. 

"... S-sir?" somebody stammered, "Are you ok?" 

The guy looked ready to hurl. Cody swallowed, stepped back, "... I am going to be a moment." 

He then set a bag Killsall hadn't noticed until then on the ground, spun on his heel, and left. 

Even Kenobi stared after him. 

A strange garbled interference itched at his ear then resolved into howling laughter. 

[Holy shit!] Hotshot wheezed, barely able to speak. Killsall even heard Peeper losing his mind in the background. Killsall couldn’t help it--he burst out laughing too but almost stopped when Kenobi's voice joined in. 

Brody pulled off a gauntlet just for the sake of throwing in on the ground in disgust, spitting _ “Poodoo!” _to the sound of everyone laughing. 

“I didn’t even do anything wrong…” Echo pouted, leaning down to paw at his spinning helmet. Kenobi helpfully lifted it out of the water for him and Echo mumbled an embarrassed, “Thank you, sir.”

Kenobi swam right back to the water’s edge, folded his arms on the edge and rested his chin on them with a disappointed puff of a sigh. 

"[Me too… Me too,]" Killsall sighed sadly.

[“Not me!”] Echo protested, [“Have a heart, that would have been so awkward! My poor innocent eyes didn't ask for that!”]

["Kriff that, I wanted to watch!"] Brody exclaimed. 

[See, sharing is caring, Echo!] Hotshot hooted. Oh, kriff, the spark of excited interest in Kenobi’s eyes--

Nope. Nope. He was going to be a good boy… and only gamble for such things when he’s less likely to get caught. In the interest of not getting atomized by commander Cody, Killsall crouched and poked into the bag and found Skywalker’s promised travel-sized standard issue shampoo, conditioner, body wash, tooth brush, tooth paste, and brush. Killsalldroids nodded to himself and pulled out the body wash. 

In less than a minute of distraction Kenobi had graduated to a splash-fight with Echo. He sighed, crouch-walked over to the water’s edge and called, “Hey, Kenobi. Quit flirting and come here.” 

Echo sputtered indignantly, ["I was not-!"] 

["The General sure was,"] retorted a mullish Brody. Echo darkened and closed his mouth.

When he got close enough Killsall squirted some of the soap into Kenobi’s hand who stared at the pearlescent fluid in his palm, unmoving, with absolutely no understanding in his eyes. Before he could go for the obvious order of operations and try eating it, Killsalldroids snorted and wiggled his hands out of his gloves, popped off his helmet. 

"C'mere, you'll love this," he said, inordinately fond. He took Kenobi’s obediently extended hand and with a splash of water massaged the soap into his palm. Kenobi watched the suds and bubbles form with open fascination. 

Obi-Wan's fingers were relaxed in his, fingers and knuckles rolling where Killsalldroids pushed them without resistance. Now that he was looking closer, Killsall was a little grossed out to see how much long-term filth had built up on the Jedi's hands in the near-invisible patterns of his skin and caked black at the seams. Not that anyone would look much better in Kenobi's circumstances… and the Jedi had obviously been trying his best to stay clean. Killsall simply made a note to ensure Kenobi properly bathed and brushed his teeth before going in for a kiss. 

(Killsall had it embarrassingly bad already because he even took the time to scrape out the filth from underneath his fingernails.)

Crouched beside them, Echo watched the procedure like it was as fascinating as the redhead was making it seem, "Master Kenobi… how much do you… do you understand?" 

The feral Jedi didn't answer but his long water-spiked eyelashes lowered. 

"N-no disrespect meant sir!" 

"I think that means 'enough,'" commented Brody drily. 

Killsall tutted disapprovingly at Echo as he dipped the man's hand under the water for a brief rinse. Then he presented it to the Jedi… but only after kissing his knuckles like a gentleman. 

"There. See? Much cleaner."

It was a treat to watch Obi-Wan register the change. It took him a moment, a double take. Then he yanked his other hand out of the water and compared the two with open amazement which quickly transmuted into delight. The Jedi scooped up the bottle of body wash, reared up, and launched backward like a happy, breaching thranta. Echo and Brody chuckled with Killsall, watching the Jedi resurface a ways out to frantically scrub every inch of himself with his prize. 

"Man, good for him," said Echo softly. 

[I hate you guys.]

["General Kenobi has been reunited with soap,"] supplied Brody with a warm voice. 

[Aw, yeah, I bet he's stoked. I know I would be after three months bathing in cold ass ponds using nothing but sand.]

"[I'd be crying--aw, kriff, no, wait! Don't use that for your hair-- tch. Hold on.]" Killsalldroids huffed, pulling his helm off his belt and setting it on the stone before swinging his legs into the water. Thankfully, trooper blacks were pretty well waterproofed. 

Echo frowned at him, "What are you doing?" 

He shrugged, "Helping him," scooped up the shampoo and conditioner and then jumped the rest of the way in. 

"You heard what Cody said-" 

"I'm not gonna _ canoodle _ him, Brody! Just helping him out. I didn't even take my armor off," Killsall complained before wading over with a grumble, "Who says 'canoodle,' anyway?" 

Echo scoffed, sounding genuinely annoyed. Killsall ignored him in favor of approaching the redhead. Killsall was genuinely not planning on anything untoward, thank you very much, and if he won more of Kenobi's affection and squeezed in a little flirting, well… Killsall had always been an enterprising clone. Obi-Wan stopped his ministrations and met him halfway, curious, slipping through the water like a fish, staying mostly submerged. Killsall smiled broadly at him, heart pounding, and tried to not show how gratified he felt when the Jedi's eyes widened and darted a quick updown over his face. 

His pupils went huge all at once and Killsall admired the effect dumbly. 

"Uhhh. Huh. Right, c'mere. Hey, _ c'mere. _I wanna show you something else," he laughed, heart juddering from nerves. He made sure his hands were visible and stayed put until Kenobi stood and moved slowly into Killsalldroids reach. 

He'd completely forgotten that General Kenobi was actually taller than him. His throat clicked but he powered through it, kept his friendly smile in place, "See this? Use this on your hair. That one you've got there is for your skin. They're different mixes meant for different things, ok? Give me your hand." 

Unexpectedly, Kenobi instead sunk lower, half sitting in the waterbed, and tipped his head towards Killsall. 

In the safety of his own mind, Killsalldroids had talked a big game about being an ambitious floozy. He was no virgin but he'd never actually made a show of flirting with someone in front of an audience. He was a little surprised at himself, at how awkward he was when he carefully gathered up that burgundy hair in his fingers. 

Kenobi’s flat, unnervingly steady blue gaze was focused on Killsalldroids from the extreme corner of his eye. 

He ignored the unblinking scrutiny, smeared shampoo in the red hair and scrubbed it in while trying to maintain composure, too ruffled to even try to be coy. Admiring the man from a distance was one thing. Having him right in front of him, literally in his hands, was another thing entirely. He was suddenly _ real. _ He could see the texture of goosebump-raised vellum hair along the muscular line of his shoulders. The contrasting silky smoothness of his numerous scars. The faint but noticeable early stages of crows feet. The raggedness of his beard. Scratchmarks and scabs. The metallic gleam of his hair when he scooped water over it. He could even smell him, an undefinable barely-there pheromone of _gorgeous _sharpened by metallic fresh blood. Killsalldroids was more than a little intimidated. His hands were _ shaking. _The whole 'bathing with a wildman Jedi' thing may have been a bad idea. But he'd opened this can of worms so he might as well lie in it. 

Kenobi’s eyelids lowered in increments until they fully closed, tension in his back unwinching until it curved. He dared to massage deeply into the Jedi's scalp. He half deliriously remembered the Jedi's 'stranded for three months without soap' hands combing through Cody's hair and had to stifle a giggle. When he dug his thumbs into the soft dip where his skull, spine, and neck met, Kenobi started purring, real purring, like a tooka, and turned to knock his forehead into Killsall's stomach plate. He rested there, hands lifting to hang lightly by fingertips hooked onto the seams of his _ beskargam _. The water visibly rippled from the vibrations in his chest and his fingers searched blindly along the texture of the armor plast. Was Kenobi a baseline human or near-human?

"Rinse your hair out quick, please?" Killsalldroids mumbled with numb lips. Kenobi's eyes cracked open for only a moment with a strange gleam lurking in them. He dipped completely into the water and swam a circle around him. 

Killsall turned to his brothers, still standing by the waters edge, helmets on and blasters gripped casual but ready. Killsall made sure his eyes were big enough to speak volumes of what he dared not say so close to the shark. Echo shook his head in silent judgement. 

Obi-Wan surfaced with a sharp exhale, hair naturally smoothed out of his face by the motion, and gave him a lazy smile before leaning against him again. Killsall knelt in the water and inhaled deeply (mistake, he smelled so good) before mumbling a, "Thank you," and smoothed conditioner into his shining hair. 

This time, Obi-Wan busied himself with finishing up by cleaning the rest of his him. He scrubbed his beard and his skin, picked at his nails, purred and hummed idly, eyes heavy lidded and almost sleepy. Smiled and playfully batted him away to condition his beard by himself. He rested his chin against Killsall when he was squeaky clean. And just. Watched him. He let Killsalldroids pet his hair as if appraising silk for longer than strictly necessary. Obi-Wan was half hanging from his arms, purring, heavy and warm despite the cold of the water. 

He smiled up at Killsalldroids sweetly with pink cheeks and dazed, gleaming eyes, his mouth full of wickedly pointed fangs. Killsall's heart froze. 

Blink. 

Kenobi was looking up at him with concern, still relaxed and flushed but his expression too different, body angled in a totally different position, to have moved in an only an eyeblink. Killsall hadn’t felt him shift. 

Killsalldroids remembered suddenly that this _ jetii _ was an unknown entity. He _ had _ been one of theirs, had been known, trusted. As much as Killsall would be the first to advocate for him they'd only interacted with the amnesiac for less than a day. Killsall gasped, pulse thudding in his ears, clammy and hyper aware of reality in all of his senses, slamming back as if woken from a hypnagogic hallucination of falling right before he hit the ground. Slowly, Killsall reached up to Obi-Wan's lips. The man arched away on a soft growled noise of protest, tried to tongue his probing fingers away. Persistence won and the Jedi subsided, trustingly allowed Killsalldroids to coax his jaw down and lift up the bow of his lips. 

Normal, human omnivore teeth. Killsall exhaled carefully. 

The heart stopping moment shattered when Echo and Brody, like good brothers, warbled a sharp whistle. 

Killsall cleared his throat, scooted away and stood. He felt more than saw when Kenobi spotted the newcomers and went on point before surging towards the village. Killsall followed with a smile that felt a little easier as he went.

He, Brody, and Echo were treated to a view of Kenobi's objectively perfect ass when he eagerly hopped out of the water. The newcomers got unexpected full frontal nudity. Rex looked like he'd been punched in the mouth and Cody covered his face with his hands. Skywalker yelled and scrambled to hide his eagerly kissy master within his robe. In Killsall's opinion, despite the weirdness of it all, all of it was more than worth it for other people's reactions. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY GUACAMOLE! The positive response to this has been totally overwhelming. Thank you all SO! MUCH! for the feedback and encouragement! LIKE??? I'm seeing writers in the kudos whose works I've read and admire aaaAAJSHFBWKZBSBDJHD????? I got my first ever offer for fanart???? WHEEZE…!? Metaknighto's art style is so cute ahHH I'M SO EXCITED??? Take your time bb ofc but GOSH am I stoked! 
> 
> Σ>―(〃°ω°〃)♡→
> 
> This chapter was an absolute bastard to write. Pulling teeth, man. I am still not happy with it but eventually you've gotta just let it go. Not every chapter has to do all the things or be show stopping. Sometimes it’s just an in-betweener and That's Okay, yanno?
> 
> You guys make the struggle worth every second. I read EVERY. SINGLE. COMMENT. and rejoice at every single kudo. Even if I don't immediately reply, know that I'm dying of happiness with every comment! Sincerely, I can't thank y'all enough for joining me on this journey. I've never written so much so fast before and it's all thanks to readers like you 👊 ❤️! 
> 
> Special thanks to T-Pock who has been an AMAZING cheerleader and performed CPR on my stamina more times than I can say! 
> 
> Also, I hope you like Killsalldroids! He thinks he's so cool but he's actually a dork.  
(Also for some reason in writing this the clones turned into fainting goats??? Who knew!)


	5. Husband With Benefits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which stolen moments occur between healthy, happy, consenting adults. Cody and Rolly been knew. 
> 
> Citrus scale: 10/10
> 
> This chapter brought to you by: Chances Are by Johnny Mathis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration:  
1\. https://glorious-sea-pancakes.tumblr.com/post/611351718566969344/maulusque-lurkingcrow-resistancepilots  
2\. https://maulusque.tumblr.com/post/189135722450/clonehub-clonehub-clonehub-clonehub  
3\. https://archiveofourown.org/works/17358701/chapters/52223395

**YEARS BEFORE**

**Rex**

  
  
  
  


_ Huh, _ Rex thought when he got his first good look at General Kenobi. 

It was only a holo, nothing more than thin stacks of pixelated blue lines resolved into the suggestion of a person. The image was small enough that he stood in Rex’s palm, a tiny doll of a man that flickered and warped in slow waves as the signal wavered. Even still, Rex was struck a bit dumb. Mostly because General Kenobi was… Not. What he expected. 

When he thought ‘Jedi Master’ he imagined a wizened, crusty, dusty… Yoda. Or Oppo Rancisis. 

Instead, Rex's eyes snagged on the unlined, youthful smoothness of the General’s cheekbones. Rex wasn’t even aware the Jedi granted mastery to beings so young. Some of that apparent youth could probably be credited to the hologram blurring his features, of course. Yet he couldn’t shake the impression that Kenobi truly was young in spite of the fatherly beard. 

Rex himself was young... yet he felt _ so old, _ old before even a clone’s time. The truth of his body, the artificial aging that hounded all the GAR, was as harsh a reality as ever. Somehow, like recognized like in the image of sweet young flesh wearing an older man’s trappings. 

He was also… he was also… Even shrunk down to the size of a toy, Kenobi was big eyed and unexpectedly fierce looking. The long hair smoothed back from his face conspired with the trim beard to give him a perfectly leonine visage... _And he was wearing a full set of clone _beskar'gam _under the ridiculous baggy Jedi robe._

_ This _ was Cody's general?

[... your men will cover us when I call the signal. Understood?] Kenobi asked, tone clipped but not rude, all business, his eyes just as flinty and unyielding. His hologram’s feet were barely the size of the last knuckle of Rex’s pinkie finger. 

“Yes, sir.” 

[Good. I'll see you there, Captain.] Kenobi finished, a teasing purr creeping into his heavily accented voice. 

Rex didn’t see Kenobi up close and in person until he watched him ride a Seppie starfighter out of the sky. He’d seen the flash of a human-shape crouched on the _ outside _ of the damn thing and assumed it was Skywalker. Because _ he would. _But as the fighter screamed in their direction, Rex realized the Jedi was wearing brown and white, not black and red.

Inertia flung the man off the fighter when it crashed with a thunderous BOOM and a calamitous spray of dirt. Instead of turning the figure into a flick of greasy paste on the landscape, the blast launched the Jedi into a bouncing, barely controlled sprint. Kenobi skid-stumbled to a stop nearby and immediately braced his hands on his knees, breathing hard. 

“Whew! That was bracing,” Kenobi puffed. 

Later, after Kenobi buzz-sawed through the seppie lines single handedly, claimed the base, then swanned away, Cody had the audacity to ask Rex, "So my Jedi is pretty cool, right?" 

_ "Yep!" _ Rex bit, a hysterical edge to his voice. 

_ Pretty cool _ , Cody said. After Rex’s first General, a Jedi so far up the Force’s ass he could barely tolerate meat-space long enough to take a shit, Jedi such as Kenobi and Skywalker were definitely _ pretty cool. _ He was still getting used to Skywalker, kark's sake, and a growing suspicion feared Skywalker wasn't the type one _ could _ get used to. Now he had to cope with Kenobi too? 

  
  


*******

  
  
  
  
  
  


Rex snapped back to consciousness. 

Obi-Wan Kenobi was leaning over him, back-lit by the midday sky. The deafening sound of shelling, the howling whistle of projectiles, the electric pong in the air from overabundant blaster fire, distant shouts and screams, the thunderous ** _KA-THOOM- _ ** one after anoth- ** _KA-THOOM-_ **

_ 'Easy,' _ said General Kenobi’s lips but Rex couldn't hear it well from injury or the sheer volume of their environment. A spray of dirt from some kind of impact sprinkled them but the Jedi didn't look away from him. 

Rex was on his back, breathing with surprising ease. He wasn't often on his back without some keeling injury. 

General Kenobi smiled softly with no real humor and his lips moved again, _ "You _ are _ injured, I'm afraid. I've simply numbed you. Don't move, please." _ His voice was light, almost jovial, but his blue eyes were solemn.

Ah. That explained why his dead-weight body wasn't listening to him. Rex let his head clonk back to the dirt with a rasping wheeze. 

There had been enough rain to produce a lot of mud recently and they were utterly unable to leave their dank little foxholes. They were all messes--Rex, for his part, was tolerating severe chafing from his mud-soiled blacks between his thighs and under his arms, constantly struggling to keep his full range of motion, stinking of adrenaline-soured sweat, always a little bit damp, a little cold, but… could have been much worse. At least they'd been able to keep their weapons clean. Today brought blessedly clear and dry weather which did much to dry their misery.

Kenobi was just as bedraggled as him. His hair was wet and plastered back from his fish-belly pale face, stray semi-dried hairs tangled out in crooked wisps, robe hanging heavy with moisture and clumps of mud. Little flecks of dirt speckled his deceptively neutral face and blood lined one of his nostrils. He had ear plugs in, and Rex realized the world sounded so padded without his helmet because the Jedi had given him a pair while he was out. The gratitude he felt for such a thoughtful gesture was overwhelming. 

The Jedi hovering over him soberly examined him. After a moment his hand retreated into the sleeve of the robe he had miraculously not yet misplaced. He bunched up the fabric and the General used it to gently wipe Rex's face clean. A futile effort--but maybe not. Kenobi's back protected him from the next ** _KATHOOM_ ** spray. 

Obi-Wan gently wiped mud and blood off of Rex's face. Rex felt… shaking. In his self. 

"Why'rnt you…?" Rex slurred. 

Kenobi blunk, answered simply, _ "I'm waiting for the bombardment to end. Until then, I wanted to make sure you and your brothers were okay." _

"Din'n haveta," Rex scolded. 

Obi-Wan's lips curled faintly again, _ "Nonsense. In fact, I'm sorry I couldn't do more. Healing has never been a talent of mine. Everyone will have to wait for a medic." _

He'd force healed _ Rex? And from the sounds of it, others too? _ That was… Complete overkill and unnecessary for clones. 

"Dn't havta," Rex repeated, sternly. He had manners, though, so he followed up with, "Bu' fankss, gen'ral."

Grief flickered over the Jedi's face and he noticed too late to stop himself from saying, "More'n walker c'n do… 'splains a lot…" 

Thankfully, the Jedi sporfled a laugh into his shoulder like he was covering up a sneeze.

_ "I'll take that under advisement, see if I can't drag Anakin with me when I go for remedial healer's training." _

"E's never… B'n subtle…" Rex sighed. He should have figured Obi-Wan knew what he meant--Skywalker’s best approximation of healing had been, as the man himself described it, shoveling his own spare energy into a person. Like bailing water _ into _ a boat. Rex disapproved every time. 

Rex knew from personal experience that Kenobi was probably being just as reckless with healing. 

"Fanks." 

_ "You're very welcome, Rex," _Kenobi acknowledged, earnest, tipping his head politely. 

The General curled his knees to his chest, swaddling himself in his sodden robe and closing his eyes. He may have been meditating but the muscles in the redhead's face twitched when they were periodically pelted. To Rex, he resembled more the careful stillness of someone trying very hard to ignore their hurts. Rex spent the time trying to articulate why his heart felt so full while he ignored his own helplessness. 

Kenobi hadn't said 'I'm glad you're okay.' He didn't say how relieved Cody would be. After so long working with Skywalker, it was almost a relief. He didn't have the heart to tell Skywalker that sometimes his attempts to comfort just… made Rex shrivel inside. His General wasn't always like that, nor did Rex always mind. The man cared _ so much _ about the clones and he was only trying to make Rex feel appreciated when they so often weren't. But... Rex didn't need more reasons to feel guilty for surviving when others did not, for being remembered when others were so often not. He didn't want to think about how devastated Cody and his bleeding heart would be if he died. He was happy to be appreciated but the undertow of such words became a quiet hurt that didn't seem to heal. 

Days like this? With the death toll being what it was? One peep of Skywalker's assurances and Rex would have hauled his injured carcass to come up swinging. 

Kenobi hadn't offered any platitudes. By Kenobi's words he'd healed everyone he could, not just Rex. Which was something Rex feared Skywalker would do (or had done) but had not yet witnessed. Rex wasn't special _ and it felt so good. _ One of the things Rex liked best about General Kenobi was that he just… _ Got _ things. He understood. Without having to be told. 

On top of that somehow, amazingly, he could _ still tell _ that Kenobi cared about Rex in particular. Because of all the clones he healed, _ Rex _ was the one he chose to sit beside and wait out the danger with. Rex was the one he chose to protect from the muck with his own body. 

Rex blinked away relieved tears, sniffling against the itch in his sinuses. General Kenobi's eyes were open and watching him. Which was fine, Rex didn't mind. He had the right to see. It was moot, anyway, because if he understood the force correctly, he'd be picking up on Rex’s groundswell emotion even if he was trying not to. But Kenobi was polite and he closed his eyes again. 

By 'coincidence,' the Jedi decided his position was no longer comfortable. He shifted his seat and his hip 'happened' to press against Rex's shoulder. Rex leaned into it as best as he could while unable to move. He fought the urge to tangle his hand in Kenobi's filthy robe or lace their clammy fingers. 

  
  


*******

  
  


"I finally figured out how to make these blankets work," said Kenobi from one of the nearby bunk beds they had appropriated. Skywalker was already passed out nearby, breathing loudly through his mouth, deaf to the irreverent bustling and chatter of armored men on all sides. 

"Oh yeah?" he asked indulgently. He had no idea if Obi-Wan was talking to him or to Skywalker’s unresponsive back but he answered anyway. He lifted his gaze from the blaster he was breaking down not far from the Jedi’s chosen roost. 

The thin grey blanket rippled as the General kicked it outward like a little kid, "They're both too small to fit me. So you must turn them diagonally. Yes, use the power of the hypotenuse." 

"You're a problem," Rex coughed, grinning. 

"Lies." 

"You are a handful," Rex asserted, terribly fond, shaking his head and turning back to his weapon, "so it's a good thing I've got two hands."

The Jedi was silent longer than normal. Rex glanced back over and was taken aback by how _Obi-Wan_ looked taken aback. _Buh,_ Rex's brain said, then scrambled to review his own words.

_Ohh. Kark._ The universe ignored Rex's sudden, devout wish for death. 

  
  


*******

  
  


They wrapped up the strategy meeting days after it originally started. By unspoken tradition, no matter how much time passed, such conclaves were only ever referred to as a singular event. They slept in shifts, taking turns slaving away over research and discussion, then tagged out to handle the mundane upkeep of their corner of the GAR. This was the part of warfare that never made it into the holovids--tireless nights hunched over holopads learning everything they possibly could about whichever podunk corner of the galaxy they were in. 

Rex was helping clean up the conference room which they'd thoroughly trashed over the course of the strategy meeting. He felt relatively assured with their present plan, that they had done their best with the resources they had. Mostly, he was thinking about finishing his shift and whether he had the time to grab a ration bar. 

Obi-Wan was working on the same mess as Rex, eyes down with identical emotionless preoccupation. Rex scraped up the flimsy like he was shoveling snow, dragging fingertips across the tabletop, snagging them by their edges and nudging them into a haphazard pile of bristling, chaotic corners pointing in all directions. Once everything had been ploughed into the same mess, Rex moved to pick up a padd at the same time Obi-Wan did. Their hands touched and

Rex couldn’t stop himself. He lifted his eyes to meet Obi-Wan’s and when their gazes latched the terrible thing lurking in Rex’s chest ignited. The Jedi must have sensed the electric pang that thrilled up from Rex’s stomach or he read Rex’s expression accurately on that unspoken, subliminal level. His neutral ho-hum expression slipped, dropped, and evaporated on the table between their still-touching hands, leaving behind wide eyed blankness. The pinpoint clarity of his pupils were beautiful on that field of blue. 

Startled lips parted, tongue audibly parting from the roof of his mouth. He observed Jedi's adam’s apple bob on a swallow, traced over the fine shape of his throat like hot trailing fingers, down to the prudently closed folds of his collar. Drug his frankly inappropriate, intense smolder back up and his fingers over Obi-Wan's. 

Rex smiled, “I’ve got it, sir. Thank you.”

Obi-Wan stared. Then he tucked his hands behind his back, cleared his throat, pink blooming over his cheeks.

“Ah. Yes. Very well, captain.” 

Rex turned his face down to his, ah, cleaning. Try as he might, the clone couldn't help the small, shy smile twitching on his face or the burning in his ears. Because he couldn't lie or dissemble worth a damn. It was one of Rex's biggest flaws and one that he, mortifyingly, shared with _ Fives _ of all people. 

Apparently he’d learned nothing from the last time he’d slipped up and flirted with Kenobi. He could tell he’d flustered the Jedi, too. A Jedi Master. A high General of the Grand Army of the Republic. The master of _his _Jedi General. Who happened to be Anakin Skywalker, overprotective president of the Obi-Wan Kenobi appreciation club. 

Rex had an easier time smothering his giddy smile after that thought. 

  
  


*******

"If my age means fucking you is bad but my maturity makes fripping Commander Tano bad, then who am I meant to fuck? Am I unfuckable?" Rex demanded.

Kenobi choked on his drink.

_ "Narsu! _I was trying to be nice," choked the Jedi. 

He had been. Exceedingly nice, in fact. Rex had simply been uninterested in nice.

“... Thank you, sir,” Rex said, trying to keep the thickness out of his voice, “I’m sorry, sir. I’ll refrain from any inappropriate behavior.” 

“No, Rex, wait--” General Kenobi said, straightening in his chair suddenly, voice so gentle and low. They were alone in spite of the public rec room they were in, tucked away into a separate work room and hidden in the din of voices. “I just wanted to… talk about it. I’m not here to reprimand you. Just talk. Man to man. _ Tome.” _

“What is there to say, Sir?”

The Jedi's eyes narrowed, “Don’t be deliberately obtuse, Captain,” and Rex’s rank came out sharply enunciated as a bite. 

Rex was alarmed to find himself glaring at the General who was glaring right back. 

Rex had learned that while Jedi were all about peace and serenity, that didn’t mean they couldn’t decide that an emotion was useful and express it to its fullest. And Obi-Wan was clearly of the opinion that his umbrage was worthwhile at that moment. Rex didn’t even disagree. He knew what he’d done to piss the Jedi off, of course. Obi-Wan didn’t care for rank during a personal conversation such as the one he was trying to broach. Rex, on the other hand, didn’t want to talk about it at all and was deflecting as fast as he could. It… felt… wrong. To drop rank. To speak so familiarly. 

Which Rex knew was the biggest hock of bullshit he’d ever indulged in. He wanted to frip the High General until he couldn’t walk straight (and, oh, what a lovely image _ that _ was), which was beyond heresy for a clone. _ And yet _the mere suggestion of addressing the man by name got Rex’s back up. Absolute banthashite. Rex didn’t know what he wanted. 

_ Treasonous, _ his brain whispered. Over the line, in fact, to think of Obi-Wan by his given name even in the privacy of his mind. His self control became tatters where Obi-Wan Kenobi was concerned.

The Jedi inhaled then exhaled carefully in that way Jedi did, “Rex,” he began, “there are… more reasons than I can count about why an… entanglement between you and I is treacherous. Our military ranks, to start--”

Yeah. But he couldn't imagine a world where Obi-Wan Kenobi chose an attachment over the greater good, anyway. Rex, not so much. He could handle making tough decisions in battle against loved ones, he knew. Proven, tested, and confirmed fact. He was a pushover _ outside _ of battle. Like when lunkhead Generals asked him to cover up minor indiscretions such as holo-comming secret wives. Or plotting the imminent wooing of Jedi masters. 

“-or your true age-” 

"Stop, just-" Rex sighed, scrubbing a hand over his head before dropping it and facing the Jedi squarely.

"I was being serious. Who am I meant to fuck? For a clone, practically all romantic prospects have military rank. And by the time I'm old enough to be 'acceptable' by Republic standards my physical prime would already be gone, spent alone._ If _ I live that long," Rex said bitterly. 

Obi-Wan’s voice was quiet, nearly a whisper, "What about one of the _ vod?" _

Rex snorted, "There are so many puritanical assholes who would like a word with you about incest and the inbred children we can't have."

"Though you are _ vode an," _ Obi-Wan added, sardonic, "a classic family the military does not make. It's… Shield brotherhood. I understand." 

He did, the way few natural-borns did. One glance at his relationship with Skywalker demonstrated that. 

"... No offense to Jesse and Kix, but I'm not attracted to people with my face." 

The Jedi watched Rex thoughtfully, turning over Rex's words like passing a stone from hand to hand. Rex could never quite tell what he was thinking. 

"... I am an adult in mind and body. If I can be asked to die for the Republic then I should be allowed to sleep with whomever I please. I know what I want."

Somehow, Rex had the strangest feeling that none of this conversation surprised Obi-Wan. Not Rex's objections, not his lack of interest in other clones, not…

"Yes," Obi-Wan said slowly, "I think you do." 

  
  
  


*******

  
  


They were alone in the old clunker of a ship Skywalker adopted. Obi-Wan was fiddling with something, back turned, humming to himself. He barely twitched at the clone's unsubtle approach. Rex marched right up to him and hooked an arm around Obi-Wan’s waist. The other man stumbled a little when pulled, turned to look back, and Rex reeled him in close. Front pressed to front, Rex kissed him as thoroughly stupid as he could manage. 

The Jedi gasped against his mouth. 

This was a risk. It was risky and stupid and assumed a _ lot _ on Kenobi’s end. But he hadn’t... He hadn’t outright discouraged Rex’s obvious crush. Not once. Not even in the wake of Rex’s unasked for, impulsive liplock. He didn’t kiss back but he wasn’t stone in Rex’s arms. He _ allowed _ the contact, head tipped obligingly to give him room, mouth unmoving but lax and indulgent. As if the kiss felt good to him despite his passivity. And the Jedi's breath rapidly grew heavy. Hands settled fluttering and light on Rex’s shoulders. 

It was so god damn confusing that Rex wanted to start screaming and smashing things. Instead he leaned in closer and, with a body that shook with nerves, Rex found the bravery to swipe his tongue light and brief over the redhead’s upper lip, a wordless plea. 

Obi-Wan _ moaned _ and his mouth opened, granting Rex entry without protest. A shudder of pleasure prickled through Rex’s skin at the first push of his tongue being met by _ active participation, finally. _ He hadn’t ruined everything yet. Rex knew he wasn’t the most experienced but he hoped what he lacked in skill he made up for in ardent enthusiasm.

It was a simulation of far filthier acts, slick and warm and good. Tasted, hilariously, a bit like tea.

At first, Rex couldn’t bear to hold him too tightly, hands tentative on the small of Obi-Wan’s back, wanting to give him the option to escape. Now he wrapped the Jedi up in a firm hug, hoping the hold didn’t feel as desperate and clingy as he worried it would. It was the right move; Obi-Wan’s mouth disconnected to let out a sharp noise of pleasure. He downright melted in his arms, head tipping back and eyelashes fluttering. Rex’s pulse thundered like a stampeding herd of… big hoofed things… 

Obi-Wan hiccuped a chuckle, flinching only to relax when Rex hungrily kissed along his jaw and the lovely shape of his neck. 

“Mmm…” Obi-Wan breathed, delightfully noisy.

Rex had _ no idea _ this was what having Obi-Wan Kenobi would be like. If he’d known, he'd have written his last will and testament before following him into the ship. He pressed little kisses up to Obi-Wan’s chin, paused to meet the Jedi's blue gaze for a moment before kissing him again. The General’s arms curled around his shoulders, one palm sliding up the back of Rex’s neck and into his hair. 

Eventually, Obi-Wan took a neat back-step. Their lips parted loudly, eyes hazy, lips still parted and a little wet. The Jedi's gaze focused after a moment, taking in Rex who couldn't help but stand in perfect military lines, moments away from saluting. 

"You're ridiculous,” He laughed, then softened, “but terribly cute."

Rex's heart pounded so hard he could feel it in his teeth.

Concern crept onto Obi-Wan’s face, "Rex, are you certain?"

_ Yes! _ Cried the clone’s heart. He knew it needed to be asked, knew Obi-Wan _ had _ to pull the breaks and ask or he wasn’t half the man Rex thought he was. Rex hated that it put all the onus on him. But it was Rex’s choice, his initiative. Obi-Wan had made that clear. 

Nothing ventured, nothing gained. 

Rex stepped into his space again, reached down and hauled Obi-Wan by his ass up onto a console. 

_ "Hh-" _ Obi-Wan huffed.

"I know what I want," said Rex firmly, voice shaking. 

Obi-Wan’s eyes drilled into his, _ unreadable unreadable unreadable-- _"... Kiss me like that again."

  
  


*******

  
  


"Captain," Obi-Wan Kenobi declared. 

"General Kenobi," was Rex's bemused answer. 

The Jedi approached using that walking-with-purpose gait that all career military folk perfected. He was wearing a broad teeth-baring smile, eyes twinkling with mirth. Rex balked--Obi-Wan hardly ever _ grinned _ like that. At his side, Fives and Echo slowed, waiting for their captain. 

"For you," Kenobi said simply, slipping a plain, unmarked, sealed folder from under his arm and holding it out. Rex took it curiously. 

"Oh. Just this?" 

"Just that," the General confirmed. He then turned to leave, nodding politely, "Gentlemen." 

Rex looked at the folder.

"What's that?" asked Fives. 

He didn't have the foggiest clue. Obi-Wan was already bustling away with his back turned, unfortunately, so there was nobody to receive the cocked eyebrow he wanted to give. "Work, if I had to guess," he drawled. 

Rex didn't open the folder until later, over dinner like the fool he was. He really should have known better. He _ knew _ what Obi-Wan looked like when he was being a little shit. 

He was sitting at a mess table with the usual suspects, and, given such company, their seating arrangement was the only thing that saved him from worse indignity. He was lucky that Skywalker across from him was distracted, head tipped back with a ball balanced on his nose like a circus clown. Most importantly, though, being at the end of the table with Kix at his elbow blocked Jesse from easy reach. 

Rex trustingly opened the file as he chewed his duracrete dispassionately, shuffling the papers and staring at them for longer than he cared to admit. 

Medical files. Why did Obi-Wan give him medical files? 

_ Hapes Simplex 1 - 0.90 - Negative - _

_ Hapes Simplex 2 - 0.90 - Negative - _

_ Chlamydia - not detected - Negative - _

Rex stopped chewing, head tilting and brows beetling. He didn't remember being screened for sexually transmitted infections? He was pretty sure he would have remembered that or at least been warned if that had been included in his recent checkup. Which had been weeks ago, now that he thought of it. Besides, why would Obi-Wan have it--

His eyes veered up to the header. 

_ Patient Name: Obi-Wan Kenobi _

Static noise like rushing water drowned Rex's ears. 

"Whoa, Rex, you are _ bright _ red?" 

One moment they had all been chatting peacefully and within seconds they fell into complete chaos. Rex snatched the paper away from the reaching hand on pure instinct. He turned, the righteous indignation of the desperate boiling over his body. Jesse made a thwarted noise, struggling to reach around his partner. Kix, for his part, stilled and started yelling, forcing Jesse to wrestle around him. Rex desperately held the paper away with the full length of his arm, leaning out, trying to de-tangle his legs to make a break for it.

Their sudden wrestling made Skywalker lose his concentration. He then forgot he had the Force and stupidly watched the unexpectedly heavy ball plunk straight into his dark green soup, splattering everything. Everyone else was then too distracted complaining about the sudden mess to stop Rex’s getaway.

“I just wanna look, captain, I swear just a peek between brothers-” cried Jesse, utterly insincere. 

“Personal! Personal! None of your business!” Rex yelled, whopping Jesse with the folder when he stood and Rex could safely swing without hitting Kix who didn’t deserve it. 

A miscalculation. He had no idea what else was in the folder. Jesse grabbed it and Rex blurted a horrified noise, yanking in counterpoint. 

Unexpectedly, the paper with the damning implications and _ private information about Obi-Wan _ was pulled out of Rex’s hand while Rex was distracted fending off Jesse. His grip tightened beyond what he could normally manage and the folder crumpled when he wrenched it out of Jesse’s hands. 

His face must have been a terrible thing to behold, because all of Rex’s friends went wide eyed and round mouthed when Rex straightened and slowly turned.

Rolly was… not the smartest of clones. But he was nice, loyal, and good at shooting things. He’d surely seen them horsing around and wanted in on the fun. He wasn’t bright enough to know that Rex, his superior officer, was _ not one to be fucked with _ and he _ perhaps _didn’t know Rex well enough to affectionately bully him as Jesse could. 

He had received the memo by the time Rex was looming over him. He’d also realized that he’d come into possession of contraband with great and terrible importance. 

Rolly’s huge eyes swung up from where he’d been reading the page to meet Rex’s gaze. He diminished, hunching his shoulders and meekly holding the paper out to Rex. Rex took it with deafening normalcy. 

“CT-12334,” Rex thundered evenly, folding the page into a small neat square without looking down. 

Rolly flinched. Spectators _ oooh’d. _

“.... I’ll be seeing you at sixteen hundred.” 

“Yessir.”

  
  
Rex flicked his chin, “Dismissed.” 

Rolly scuttled away but not without a scan over Rex from head to toe, eyes wide with new knowledge. Yes, that would need to be dealt with. The only beings that gossiped more than clones were droids. But, Rex reflected, Rolly was a good sort. He would be one of the few clones Rex actually believed _ could _keep a secret. 

He contemplated Rolly’s panicked retreat for a moment. Then he drew breath and turned his baleful gaze upon his _ vod. _

Jesse had both hands up in surrender.

“Sixteen hundred, sir. Got it, sir. Didn’t know, sir, I’m sorry, sir.” Jesse babbled. Below him, a still seated Kix was massaging his temples, muttering an “Idiot,’” into the natural break between words. 

“Good,” Rex said simply, then shoved the paper into his mouth, drawing scattered laughter. _Nobody else _was getting it. 

  
  


*******

  
  


Rex was nearly having an out of body experience as he shoved Obi-Wan's tunics out of the way.

He wasn't fully undressing the man 

Oh, gods, please-

But instead untucked and parted layers of robes and tunics to lay hands on soft skin just a tick cooler than his own. 

Groin to groin, tightly pressed and refusing to separate, hips frotting together in perfect needy synchronicity-

_ "Jii-" _ Obi-Wan panted, thighs squeezing deliciously around Rex's hips. 

All he knew was what felt good and right-

Because Obi-Wan hadn't slept in days. The escort mission they were on was almost boring in its simplicity and relative safety. But-

_ "I can't turn my brain off," Obi-Wan'd said, grimacing, baring his teeth and pinching his brow. His voice was dismayed, almost surprised. _

It was their first time together and Obi-Wan couldn't sleep. He wanted to sleep, for once. Rex was impressed that he wasn't blustering or making excuses. At least Obi-Wan only deliberately mistreated himself when there was a reason for it, stupid or otherwise.

He saw the man, pale with sunken, bruised eyes, sitting morosely, looking so strangely small

and he couldn't help but think

'I can fix that.'

Rex was surprised he'd found the wherewithal to talk past the cautionary mumbles in his own brain and offer to fuck him to sleep. 

Rex’s palms tingled where they ran over Obi-Wan's cool flanks and juddered over old scars. The Jedi clung, kissing wholeheartedly, melting and reverent, one hand feverishly stroking along Rex's buzzed hair while his free hand gripped Rex's ass. The clone buried his face in the crook of Obi-Wan's shoulder, face burning. 

"Watch the neck, watch the neck--" Obi-Wan yelped breathlessly. 

Rex gasped, jerked up, "Sorry! I'm sorry…" then worriedly cupped Obi-Wan's bearded cheek, "Are you ok?" 

"Not to fret, just a bruise. Please get back in my mouth." 

And how could he say no to that? Rex scanned gentle, worried hands over the length of his body before he dove back into the kiss. They purred as one, a nearly identical sound of pleasureapproval. 

After worming a hand into his lover's trousers, Rex dropped to his knees. 

Obi-Wan moaned tight, aching noises, balanced on the edge of a console, thighs spread, clawed hands slowly combing through Rex’s short hair. 

  
  


*******

  
  


When General Kenobi invited Rex to his quarters on the _ Negotiator, _ Rex didn't think much of it in spite of their new… arrangement. General Kenobi’s quarters doubled as an office, after all, and the summons had been official. So he showed up at the door expecting nothing. 

"Ah, captain, do come in," Kenobi said pleasantly, stepping aside and ushering him in. 

"Thank you, sir," Rex murmured, stepping around his secret lover and letting the door snick shut behind him. Rex barely registered the lock automatically engaging but it relaxed him enough to comment in a far more familiar tone, "You're in a good mood." 

He was--the man had a rare lack of tension in his frame and an easy, relaxed expression just barely canting his mustache into a faint smile. Rex noted his skin was warmly flushed, his hair looking/smelling freshly cleaned, and he looked well fed. His beard was even freshly trimmed. Such ease was so hard to come by in war. Rex was glad to see it. 

"Mm. I am, thank you. Please, have a seat." 

Rex genuinely only began to suspect when Kenobi herded him to sit on the edge of his bed instead of a chair. He _ really _ started to get it when Obi-Wan knelt with a benign expression and started unbuckling the codpiece of Rex's armor with nimble fingers. 

_ "Oh," _ Rex blurted dumbly. Obi-Wan hummed wordless agreement, _ mhm, _ neatly setting the piece of armor aside. 

“Do you object?”

  
  
_ “No.” _

The man wasted no time. Rex scrambled to help him fish out his cock then could only sit back on his hands and stare when the Jedi took his flaccid, woefully clueless, unprepared penis into his warm mouth. 

"Sir, K-, Obi-Wan, you don't have to-" Rex sputtered. 

Obi-Wan shot him a look that snapped Rex's jaw shut despite the undignified tableau of his mouth. He popped off just long enough to drawl, "Last time you sucked me I passed out before I could reciprocate."

"Believe me, I was getting plenty out of it," Rex managed to retort, tongue tied. 

Obi-Wan certainly didn't seem to mind how thoroughly Rex and his anatomy had missed the memo. He pushed rope, eager for the soft unsatisfying mouthful as if he was working with something harder. On every backstroke, Obi-Wan’s tongue ran a quick circle around the head before he plunged back down. Which,_ yes, _felt immediately good. Rex was gobsmacked but rapidly catching up from the caress of slick velvet. He spread his knees and eased his hips closer to the edge of the bed, careful, not wanting to be rude. He was still wearing the ass-plate of his armor and he squirmed, trying to not ruin the Jedi's rhythm but he kept fumbling the clasps--

The Jedi didn't miss a beat, mouth roughly working around the head of his cock. In an impressive display of multi-tasking, Rex's leg armor clicked loose from unseen touch and fell away, allowing two groping hands to slide up the clone’s thighs. Obi-Wan whined happily as his jaw was forced wider and wider, easily took Rex over and over past the click in his throat like it was nothing. 

_ Stars, but he's good at this, _ Rex thought helplessly. It occurred to him that Obi-Wan would appreciate hearing the thought, so he cleared his throat and croaked, "You're good at this." 

Obi-Wan’s expression warmed even further and he winked lazily. Rex had to breathe carefully, measuring his breaths, exhales hissing through his teeth as if bearing pain until he felt a little more in control of the situation. 

Rex slipped out of his gauntlets and carefully threaded a hand into Obi-Wan's hair, pushing the cinnamon locks back from his face, leaving his hand in that softness. He couldn't help but slide a thumb through his beard to press against his flexing cheek. With every slick plunge Rex's flesh burned. 

Obi-Wan eased off from the long full strokes of his mouth, breathing hard and running the flat of his tongue maddeningly up and down his now fully raised length. Rex traced from his cheek to his shining lower lip. 

_ "Mmmhh… Mmh… _ I should stop," said Obi-Wan, breathless. 

"Not obvious to me," Rex panted, fingers curling in that orangey hair, cupped the soft hidden warmth at the vulnerable curve of neck and skull. 

"Mmmno," His lover groaned, lips audibly wet, "I had other things I wanted to do to you tonight. We won't get to it if I keep going," then the Jedi, in spite of his insistence, latched onto the head of his cock and suckled, eyes deliriously fluttering shut before dragging himself off again and whimpering,_ "But you taste so good… " _

"Stop stop stop-" Rex gasped. 

Obi-Wan immediately disengaged and sat back on his heels. They shared a moment mutually breathing hard and tilting their heads back, struggling to collect themselves and back off the edge. 

Rex chuckled when he finally opened his eyes. Obi-Wan smiled at him, no, grinned at him, and Rex's heart ached as he grinned back. Something saucy climbed into the Jedi's expression and he stood, humming, and started toeing out of his boots. Rex settled to watch, careful to set his weight on his hands to resist temptation. 

His lover didn't exactly put on a show. But he was so thoroughly Rex's living wet dream that he honestly didn't have to. Rex could watch him all day; clothed from chin to toe, unclothed, intentionally sexy or unsexy, didn't matter. He knew that part of his hopeless fascination with the Jedi was base, animal attraction. But great bleeding fuck the man was gorgeous. It was just Rex's rotten luck that the most jaw droppingly beautiful being he'd ever clapped eyes on also happened to have such a genuinely good soul. _ And _ he was funny. Kriff him.

_ … _And against all odds he was willing to frip Rex... (!!!) 

Obi-Wan set his boots aside neatly and slung his socks into them after. His trousers were unbuckled and dropped without ceremony, folded, and tossed onto a nearby chair, followed by his underwear. The mess of clothes might have bothered Rex if he wasn’t busy staring dumbly at his backside. 

Surprisingly, the Jedi stopped there, turned back to the clone with a warm-eyed smile. He waved a hand, crooked his fingers, and Rex’s armor fell undone in a waterfall of clicks and clatters. Without looking away, Rex shoved it all aside, heedless of the pieces crashing to the floor. Obi-Wan stepped between Rex's spread knees. Without thinking, Rex slid hands under his tunics to take hold of slender hips. A part of his brain muttered about gaping and leering, that it was rude and somehow not his place to look. But the rest was pretty damn sure he had circumstantial permission at least. So he ended up alternating glances to and from the normally hidden and very interested part of the other man. 

"Rex, are you interested in anal intercourse with me?" His lover asked as he unpeeled Rex from his blacks. Offhanded, as if that wouldn’t knock Rex clean off his feet. 

Rex gaped up at him. Obi-Wan laughed, caressing Rex's cheek and waiting for an answer. 

"Yes," Rex choked. 

"Excellent. Sit back a little, please." 

The unconcerned tone of voice was really throwing Rex off. He obediently sat back a little, giving Obi-Wan room to lift one knee to straddle the blond's lap. 

Rex couldn't resist-- he leaned in and took the other man's member into his mouth for a brief taste before it was out of easy reach. Under his hands Obi-Wan’s ass flinched under the clone's hands and his cock jumped in the confines of his mouth. 

_ "Hah!" _Obi-Wan yelped, hips jerking. He'd only intended a brief taste but… he took a steadying breath through his nose, exhaling carefully. Obi-Wan's legs juddered near imperceptibly when Rex adjusted his tongue under the heft of the silkysoft, durasteel weight. He bobbed a few times up and down his length, glad he'd been biting and licking his lips enough to slide smoothly. Obi-Wan was molten in his mouth. 

Obi-Wan violently, quietly cursed in more languages than Rex could recognize while carding through the bristles of his short-buzzed hair that he knew most people found irresistibly soft. 

"Do you like the taste?" his partner rasped. Rex's brain snagged on all the ways to interpret that. He settled on answering by looking up with a raised eyebrow and pulled back enough to smirk around the head of his deece and shrug a shoulder. 'Male' wasn't a terrible taste, by any means, but not something he craved. 

… That was a lie. He did crave it. Rex reconsidered his answer, parted long enough to roughly whisper, "... Yeah," then went right back to work.

His Jedi's face was flushed and soft as Rex tongued his slit to admire the heady filthy taste. Obi-Wan had that same sweet expression that first drove him to distraction so long ago. Rex had to look away or he would be tempted to touch himself. 

Obi-Wan chuckled breathlessly, hand still petting along his skull slow and reverent, "I do too. I-if you couldn't tell. I may have said that earlier. Can still taste you."

Rex whined from another brutal pang of arousal. This was _ so good… _ But Obi-Wan wanted penetrative sex. So he pulled off with tight lips and a gentle suction, careful not to drool or trail a mess. 

"Um," Rex began, swallowing the aftertaste of his lover and licking his lips, "Can we please take the rest of your clothes off?" 

Obi-Wan paused for a beat, breathing hard, brain obviously struggling to keep up, "Absolutely. Anything you like." 

"I'd like that," Rex purred, inordinately proud, sliding hands up to help him disrobe. 

Jedi robes were complex and many layered because Force use burned a lot of energy and left the practitioner cold more often than not. Rex remembered this as he pushed the last tunic off his shoulders to bare him completely. He ran hands down Obi-Wan's long muscular flanks to his hips, paused to kiss a mole, and asked low, "You gonna be warm enough?" 

"I think you can keep me warm," Obi-Wan teased, settling to sit fully in Rex's lap. Rex smiled. 

Rex couldn't stop running hands over Obi-Wan's body, so he let Obi-Wan take full control of mounting. He groaned when Obi-Wan took hold, had to close his eyes and breathe when he sank onto his cock, whined when there wasn't quite enough lubricant (oh, sweet little gods, he'd apparently been prepared and slicked before Rex even entered the room) and they had to grind and strain together to fully seat him. Obi-Wan was just a little taller than the clones and it showed, perched in his lap as he was. Rex had to tip his head back for his lover to kiss down onto him. Their kisses were short, noisy pecks. 

His lover tipped back with a small, satisfied quirk of his mouth. His lover circled his hips, rocking in place for a moment. The blond steadied his hips. Hands settled onto Rex's shoulders and the Jedi adjusted, lifting up and shifting his knees on the bed, skin hissing over blankets, before dropping hard. 

_ "Ah-!" _ Rex barked. 

His pace was measured and steady, faster than the teasing Rex might have expected. He groaned and spread his knees for enough ballast to rock up in counterpoint. It was effortless to find a rhythm together and Rex's brain became incoherent mush.

Obi-Wan propped him firmly into a deeper kiss. He submitted to the liplock, helpless. What they were doing, rocking together, coiled full body into one, kissing like the world was ending and devouring moans, didn't feel like simple fucking. Internally Rex quailed, knowing Obi-Wan could surely feel the stupid, borderline self destructive nonsense Rex was feeling. Obi-Wan was participating enthusiastically despite that. And Rex had no idea what it _ meant. _

Their pace gradually slowed and slowed until they jolted together into singular, long, irregular, hard thrusts, one after another, Rex dragging Obi-Wan down and grinding into him at the apex of each thrust, lingering. Obi-Wan crushed himself into each, spasming and crying out into Rex's mouth. Their shared breaths puffed hot and humid, too distracted to kiss, unwilling to pull away. 

"Yes, just like that-" Obi-Wan breathed into his lips, mouths smearing together. 

Rex curled around him, one arm wrapped tight round his waist, the other reaching behind Obi-Wan's shoulders to grasp and clench the back of his neck, held him fast and still, their skin sticking. The loud keen he got in response sounded so much like pain that Rex immediately loosened his grip.

"No, no, keep holding me, please keep holding me-" Obi-Wan begged.

Rex wound tight around him, obedient, mindlessly thrusting until he trembled with exhaustion and got sloppy. Obi-Wan was near silent in his arms, stiff, mouth hung open, breath shaking. Rex tucked under his chin, all of his focus on each near-silent rasp of pleasure-- slammed home one last time. Obi-Wan's thighs snapped wide, crying out, his knee knocking another component of his armor loudly to the floor--

_ "Oh fuck-" _ someone moaned thickly,

\--the lights flickering as the Jedi whined and convulsed in his arms. 

They sat breathing hard for a time, slowly relaxing muscle by muscle, before Obi-Wan curled forward and took Rex's mouth in soft indulgent kisses. Rex kissed back helplessly until Obi-Wan started to pull away, stood with shaking legs--

"Oh no," Rex breathed when he saw the stream trickling down the inside of Obi-Wan's thigh, "I'm sorry, sir, Obi-Wan, I should have pulled out or at least warned you…" 

Obi-Wan looked down, hummed pleasantly, "Well… if you kiss me well enough I might be motivated to forgive you… And I might even let you do it again." 

"R-right now?" 

Obi-Wan nodded, "I'll let you do that as many times as you like tonight. In fact, I would very much like it if you would, please."

"...."

"Wanna see how many times you can?" 

Rex eventually managed to squeak, "Yes, please…" 

  
  


*******

  
  


During holo-sabacc with the Commanders and well into giving Bly shit for his gigantic crush on General Secura, Cody said the damndest thing.

“Well, the only one of us actually kriffing a General is Rex.”

Everyone and everything stopped dead. Rex froze with half a grin still on his face. Fox and Ponds, given how far away they were, were holo-projected into the game. Wolffe, Cody, Rex, and Bly were all there in the dusty, smoke filled storage closet together, drinking clone-brewed moonshine while General Koon turned a blind eye. All eleven eyes turned to stare at him.

Rex gaped at Cody. For his part, Cody gave him a secretive smirk in return from under his lashes, then innocently looked down at his cards. Rex had been under the impression that he and Cody were keeping that a _ secret…! _

“... You’re screwing General Skywalker?” asked Wolffe, flat and deeply unimpressed. 

That managed to break through Rex’s caught horror instantly. He guffawed, slapping his cards down and folding. There was no way he could focus now and they would only do their level best to destroy him after such a reveal anyway.

It still cracked Rex right up that his General, a man most of the galaxy considered extremely attractive, was _ at best _ a ‘meh’ to pretty much the entirety of the GAR. Something in Jango Fett’s DNA found what Skywalker had to offer profoundly unappetizing. Rex loved it--as much as he adored Skywalker, his head could afford some shrinking. Skywalker learning the harsh truth remained one of Rex’s favorite memories. 

“Gods, no!” Rex snickered gleefully.

“Naw, he’s not fucking Skywalker,” Cody confirmed, taking another draw from his tabacc stick. 

Faces all around the small not-quite-stolen table morphed into surprise. Fox and Ponds were sharp and realization dawned on their blue faces. 

“He’s screwing _my _ General,” Cody finished. 

Rex gave Cody a dirty look, ignoring the chorus of ‘WHAT?’s and howls of incredulity. In Wolffe’s case the howling was literal. Rex needed to make fun of him later for that. Cody was grinning like a devaronian. 

This whole interaction was very… Cody. Because only his _ ori'vod _ could roast him over an open fire and piss him off while simultaneously making him look cool to everyone else. Because, contrary to Skywalker, Jango’s DNA saw Kenobi and responded with a _'hubba hubba.'_ The majority of the homosexually-inclined GAR considered him to be sex on legs. 

It… admittedly was kind of cool to be the one who caught him. Rex hadn’t really thought about it that way. 

“If Cody hadn’t been the one saying it, I wouldn’t have believed it!” Bly cried, probably enjoying not being the one under fire for once. 

[Nice,] Ponds said, holding up a hologram hand for Rex to sigh and pretend to high five.

“I would have thought Cody would be the one to finally nail him!”

“Nah, I’ve gotta work with him. I’ve always kept it professional,” said Cody blithely, the unspoken ‘but I could have’ drifting into the smoke-heavy air with absolute confidence. Rex didn’t doubt it. Honestly, Rex was a little surprised Cody hadn’t put up more of a stink about the entire... affair.

“Oh, one hundred percent. General Kenobi was gagging for Pussy Slayer _Kote,”_ Rex said with as much sincerity as he could muster, dodging whatever Cody threw at him. 

[Kenobi was just dying to slob on his knob, real shame Rex swept him off his feet--] 

“Wait!” Wolffe sputtered, half choking on his bottle of moonshine, “Rex, is he good in bed?” 

“He’s a top. Gotta be,”

[Noo, he’s a bottom, fool!]

[How do you know that?]

  
  
[Because I’ve actually seen the guy in person? You’re always on Coruscant jacking off, Fox, you don’t know shit.]

“Come on, spill!” 

“I’m not sure I’m comfortable saying,” Rex muttered. He could almost hear the ping of approval from Cody’s section of the table. 

“Aw, come on, you can’t just keep a victory like that to yourself!" 

  
  
“Just one little dirty. Then we’ll stop asking,” Cody said, all but granting permission. His words were a sobering reminder to the rabble that Cody could and would wrestle any of them down and give wet willies to disrespectful shitheads. 

“... He’s kinky, he knows what he likes, and he’s got a perfect ass.” 

It felt.. Surprisingly good to talk about it, even if he wouldn’t talk much for Obi-Wan’s sake. But it was a little weight off of his chest. And it didn’t hurt to hear the hollering and table pounding in honor of his sexual prowess.

Rex loved his _ ori’vod. _ He roughly kicked Cody under the table to show it, and grinned when he kicked back playfully. 

  
  


*******

  
  


Rex watched, had been watching, Jedi master Obi-Wan Kenobi fidget for what felt like forever. Realistically, Rex knew that they hadn't been idling that long, but they should have been sleeping hours (days) ago with alpha shift while beta took the wheel. Realistically, Rex _ could _ have been sleeping. But he'd caught Obi-Wan lying again. 

'I'll be fine,' he said, 'The call won't take that long' he said, _ 'I'm too wired to sleep right now, Anakin, I'll turn in right after!' he said. _ Banthashite. Rex might have been saltier towards General Skywalker for buying it if he, too, hadn't been running on empty. They had to set a good example for Commander Tano, after all, and her master had the highest chance of attracting her dogged emulation. If he slept, she slept. Rex would take two out of three. 

So Kenobi got away with being pointlessly masochistic again. Cody had been _ this _ close to bursting into frustrated, burnt-out tears trying to convince his Jedi that they could take the call for him, not everything needed his constant supervision, please dear god _ go to bed. _ So Rex silently ordered a hit on Cody to get _ him _ tucked into bed and resigned himself to sitting through the interminable wait for a vitally important comm relay with General Kenobi. Minutes stretched into infinity. 

And he couldn't help but marvel at how profoundly _ bad _ at serenity the Jedi could be. 

Rex watched him fidget. He stacked bottles of water into a tower. Then _ oisk _-bars. Then he peeled the label off a bottle and folded it into surprisingly inept origami. Now he was distracted by the adhesive he'd pulled off the underside of said label and was stretching it and snapping it on the table with a dragging finger. 

Stretch. Snap. 

Stretch. Snap. 

Rex was so attracted to him it was unreal. 

Stretch. Snap. 

Stretch-

"Oh my god…" Rex sighed. 

Snap.

"Pardon?" Kenobi asked politely. 

"I want to murder you," Rex informed him. 

That drew a short, manic giggle out of the Jedi, "What? Why?" 

"You don't knock it off and stop snapping that shit I'm gonna kick you in the head," he threatened, a large part of him quailing that he had the audacity to talk to his superior officer that way. Only ever in private, he reasoned. 

Obi-Wan pinkened slightly and looked down at the adhesive, picking at it with a considering air. Rex didn't trust the mischievous curl to his mustache one bit. 

"What do you call this stuff, anyway? I always thought of it as booger-glue." 

Rex groaned loudly, "Holy shit it's just gLUE-!" 

"A specific kind of glue-!" 

"Aren't you supposed to be meditating or something?" 

Obi-Wan’s lips pursed. 

Stretch. Snap. 

Rex lurched out of his chair. Obi-Wan immediately dodged to the right, away from Rex's leftward pursuit. 

He tackled. They fell, Rex's hand cautiously cushioning his head, body curled protectively around him. The man was laughing so hard he wasn't sure if the General was speaking a coherent language. 

"-just occupy-h-ing-" 

"Go to bed."

"-some time-" 

_ "Go to bed." _

"-need to be apprised of the situation!" he whined. 

Rex kept him pinned for a minute. The air darkened with tension and Kenobi’s laughter faded, leaving only his hitching breaths which smoothed out as he listened. 

… This was new. For both of them. They hadn't tested the waters, hadn't… 

There was a limited time frame he had to work in before the playful wrestling started to look suspicious to the boys behind the cameras. They were likely drawing enough attention as it was-- General Kenobi didn't really _ play. _

Rex leaned into Kenobi’s ear, "Go to bed…" 

Pinned face down like this, Rex could hear but not see Kenobi lick his lips. The Jedi's breath hitched. He let out a single soft _"ha-"_ when Rex bit down on the shell of his ear gently. Unable to risk tempting either of them further, Rex sat up. _(Later, Rex wouldn't be afraid to bite down hard, practically chewing on the General, bullying his head to the side with insistent pressure, grinding his teeth while Obi-Wan's mouth fell open in bliss.)_

"... And _ sleep," _he concluded gently. 

Obi-Wan thunked his forehead on the floor, huffed, "You're bribing me." 

"I am."

"You don't even plan on paying up," accused the red haired Jedi.

"I do." 

"This is a trick." 

"Might be. You'll never know unless you go along with it."

"...." 

"So…?" Rex prompted, letting the Jedi up. 

Obi-Wan hopped quickly to his feet, dusting off his front. He then frowned, "I don't want to have to deal with comm tag tomorrow." 

"I could take the call for you."

"Captain," Obi-Wan scolded gently, "You need sleep just as much as I do." 

Before Rex could reply to that, he was cut off. Obi-Wan’s tone was intimate, soothing, a tone he'd never heard before, "It shouldn't take much longer, truly," and here his voice lowered enough that the security recordings couldn't pick his words up, "Then maybe you and I can get shaken out of the same bed in the morning." 

Rex closed his eyes, exhaled slowly through his nose, "Alright. I'll wait with you a little bit longer." 

The intimacy vanished. Obi-Wan’s blue eyes darted over his face, brows knit, "Rex, you don't have to. I can… Give you my room codes, join you just as easily-"

He sat down hard, turned the chair beside him on its swivel to face the jedi firmly. 

"I'll keep you company." 

More often than not, the Jedi was complicated and unreadable to Rex's eyes. The redhead hesitated, body language uncertain, and Rex was helpless to understand why. But he refused to believe the shrill insecurity in the back of his head asking whether Obi-Wan was trying to get rid of him. 

Rex didn't like making these overtures. Hated the way his heart felt the cold of a chopping block so keenly. But he didn't truly expect pain, not from this man. 

He just… didn't like feeling so exposed.

After an awkward pause, Obi-Wan slid into the seat next to him. 

It wasn't often Rex and Obi-Wan got to see each other, much less stand in the same room. Being able to share physical space outside of their infrequent hookups? Precious. Rex had no idea how he'd managed to get so thoroughly, hopelessly tangled up in someone he barely interacted with. 

Waiting in a cold, drafty conference room watching Obi-Wan's eyelashes dip and the tension bleed out of the muscles around his eyes, Rex was glad he stayed awake in the dead of their night, holding Obi-Wan's dry, calloused hand under the table. 

Obi-Wan seemed happy too. 

  
  


*******

_ “Jedi aren’t forbidden from sex, just attachments.” _

_ “Oh. What… qualifies as an attachment?” Was whatever they had an attachment? Rex… didn’t think so…? _

_ “Selfish value of one life over others. Commitment to someone, or something, over the greater good.” _

_ “Hhuh.” _

_ “I’m sorry, Rex, I didn’t think to tell you. Remind me to go into greater detail with you later when we have more time.” _

_ “I definitely will, sir.” _

*******

  
  


A loud _ thump _ against the door interrupted the moment. Rex froze, flat on his back, and Obi-Wan’s eyes widened, fluttered. They exchanged a startled glance. Kenobi twisted on his lap to look back at the still-closed door.

_ “What the fuck?” _ Skywalker’s voice mumbled, near imperceptible, from the other side of the door. _ Thump. _

Obi-Wan’s head tipped back dramatically, and he breathed a long silent sigh. Rex covered his mouth with both hands. Skywalker _ could not know _ that he was ploughing his master. He _ could not _ laugh. 

His lover stiffened, set a hand on the crown of Rex’s head with narrowed eyes. Rex admired the length of his eyelashes. Might be his last sight if Skywalker decided to bust the door down. Rex watched Obi-Wan glare at the door for a long moment, wishing he could combat-roll off the bed so he could dive under it. 

Only once more did Rex’s General try to prise the door open. After a long pause Rex watched the tension leave his lover's nude muscles in a rush, Kenobi’s chin tracing his ex-padawan’s path down the corridor. Creepy that he could sense the other man through walls. 

Before Rex could ask the obvious, Obi-Wan’s comm chimed. The Jedi fumbled it open and Rex leaned into his space so he could read over his shoulder. Obi-Wan leaned into him, tipping the screen helpfully. 

_= A. Skywalker: hey master your door is locked? :/// =_

  
  


** *****   
  


Rex pressed feather light, silent kisses along Obi-Wan's temple, his cheekbone, an eyelid, nosing briefly at his hair to catch a brief hint of the man's scent. A tiny indulgence he only allowed because Obi-Wan had done far more inappropriate things to Rex without shame. 

Rex lay over his body lightly, pressing one last kiss to slack lips. Obi-Wan was asleep, finally. His first sexual encounter with the man had successfully knocked him out and Rex had never forgotten it. That would not be the last time he abused his power as Obi-Wan's lover to take him down. 

Because nobody wanted to see General Kenobi when he hadn't slept in five days. _ Nobody. _

He wanted to lay on him and shower affection on him all day. But duty called. 

The clone carefully picked his way off of Obi-Wan's prone body, careful not to jostle him. Because of course the difficult bastard slept lightly. But not so lightly that Rex couldn't get away with hooking an arm under his knees to lift/slide him more fully on the bed. 

The Jedi's chin lifted and his arms pawed slightly, mumbling in his sleep. Rex immediately pressed his cheek alongside his lover's, chest to chest, nose in Obi-Wan's hair, and stayed there radiating calm and his own tiredness. His lover slowly subsided, muscles uncoiling and breath deepening. 

Loving on Obi-Wan had been unexpectedly educational. He'd learned all sorts of things about the strange creatures called Jedi and a plethora of neat tricks for handling overly intense people. He was only able to sit with Obi-Wan's feet in his lap, slowly wiggling one boot off at a time, because he'd learned Jedi were really just… Sensitive. And picked up on emotions like sponges picked up water. Keeping calm and venting out whatever emotion _ he _ wanted _ them _ to feel? Worked like a charm, every time. _ You get what you give, _ Rex thought fondly. He squeezed the dense muscle of Obi-Wan's calf before setting it down, knowing that, by now, Obi-Wan subconsciously expected his touch and would not rouse so long as Rex stayed sleepy, warm, and didn't make any sudden movements. 

He'd also learned that even if his movements and touches did rouse Obi-Wan? Affectionate, firm pressure satisfied the skin hunger so prevalent in the GAR and knocked him right out. 

He set Obi-Wan's boots down beside his bed. The clone didn't bother trying to pull the blanket out from under him--he simply went to the stash of blankets he hid in Obi-Wan's quarters and lay them over the Jedi. Obi-Wan didn't keep enough for himself, convinced (stupidly) that using more than one thin standard issue blanket for himself was the height of selfish over-indulgence. Rex knew his lover's foibles as well as he knew how to babysit Skywalker. 

Where the Jedi would be without the clones, Rex had no idea.

When Rex stepped out of the General's quarters, Cody scoffed from where he was propped against the wall, unknowingly answering Rex's thought, "They'd crash and burn without us, I swear."

"Who knew that keeping Jedi is so similar to keeping a zoo?" Rex snorted, realigning his armor. Obi-Wan always got handsy when Rex touched him. Rex was still hard but it'd be easy enough to walk off. 

"God, I wish there was a flash training for that," Cody grumbled, pushing off the wall, "First lesson; how to keep your cool when your Jedi stops and _ closes their karking eyes _ in the middle of battle." 

They shouldn't be so blasé, probably. The musk of Cody’s General reeked on his skin, in his mouth, phantom of lips still pressing over his, warmth pooled in his groin and his cheeks, walking beside his _ vod _ like he hadn’t just diddled his General. But Cody had known the moment he'd first touched Kenobi. Somehow. With almost supernatural clairvoyance. And he never seemed to care. Which still surprised Rex. 

"You know," Rex mused as he moved to Cody's side, "the idea has merit. We could start doing Jedi-primers for shinies." 

"... You're absolutely right. And we don't even need to plan the lesson. I know exactly what I'm gonna say to my next batch, no forethought needed." 

"Get the honeymoon period over early," Rex agreed, "Give them realistic expectations and trash the idolized reverence early. Do you think we could get Bly as a guest speaker?" 

"If we're doing that, we'll need to get Monnk to talk about General Fisto and how he earned his name." 

Rex sputtered a laugh into his hand and Cody grinned.

“How much do you wanna bet they don’t believe General Fisto is a nudist?”

“Of course they won’t believe it. I will, however, bet how long it takes them to believe. And I’m putting one hundred credits down; they don’t believe it until they see it themselves.”

“Ooh, you’re awfully confident of that.”

“They’ll think we’re sprinkling in fakes to prank them.”

  
“That’s… a great idea, actually. We should do that. You’re full of good ideas today.”

  
  
“I always am, actually, but nobody appreciates me.”

“Ha! Alright. I’ll match your bet; they’ll believe everything we tell them once they start seeing their own General’s banthashite.” 

“To the bookie?”

“Yep.” 

*******

  
  


_ “Wait, this is natural? ...But your eyebrows don’t match.” _

_ “Truly? Natural? You’re making fun of me.” _

_ “Well, natural or not, it's a beautiful color. I’ve never seen such a pure, icy blond. And so soft... I could touch it all day.” _

  
  


*******

_ Obi-Wan’s head was tipped back on a sigh, eyes closed peacefully, loose and relaxed in Rex’s arms. _

_ The Jedi seemed happy, happier than he had been. Rex liked to think he’d been good for the Jedi. He knew Obi-Wan had been good for him, at least. For his part, Rex was definitely much happier. Felt more… excited. For life in general. Which only made the lows that much lower. But he’d found the highs made everything worth it. _

_ They were slow dancing together. In an empty rec room during the quietest hours of the alpha-shift night cycle. Obi-Wan had been playing an old song on the speakers, claiming he needed to brush up on dancing for the upcoming political gala he was due for. _

_ Rex didn’t think his presence was helping him much; the Jedi had to stop and correct him every other step because Rex had never danced before. Clones were fast learners, though, and now they swayed smoothly. Obi-Wan was luxuriating in the simple slow motions like it was something decadently pleasurable. Rex was watching him, entranced. _

_ They still hadn’t gotten around to talking about Jedi attachments. Rex was both looking forward to the conversation and dreading it for the same reason. Knowing Obi-Wan, he had not forgotten and was simply waiting for some inscrutable moment that would inevitably catch him off guard and knock Rex on his _ shebs. 

_ He wanted to know what this was. _

_ He needed to know what this was. _

_ He ran his knuckles down Obi-Wan’s cheek, met the Jedi's burning gaze when roused by his touch. _

_ He needed to know if they were more than just friends with benefits. _

_ He was excited to learn they were. _

_ He was scared to learn that they weren’t. _

_ Obi-Wan kissed a line down the center of Rex’s palm. Rex had no idea what it _ meant. 

_ He was scared to learn that any relationship meant ‘attachment.'_

_He doubted but hoped that wasn't the case._

_ He was afraid Obi-Wan would cut it off when he realized how strongly Rex felt for him._

_ He desperately hoped Obi-Wan knew already. _

_ He hoped Obi-Wan felt the same way. _

_ He was scared to learn a relationship meant ‘attachment’ but Obi-Wan was going against his ideals anyway. _

_ Rex pulled him close, pressed a kiss to his forehead. Obi-Wan hummed and nuzzled until he found a suitable place to rest his cheek. His armor couldn’t have been comfortable, but he seemed content regardless. They stepped, slow, swaying, turning, to the gentle rainfall of piano keys. _

_ He was too jaded to truly believe a relationship between a clone and a Jedi would be acceptable._

_ He hoped. But Rex already knew how unlikely it was when what they had was already unacceptable by every other measuring stick. _

_ Rex squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his face into ginger hair and exhaled roughly against the near-pain in his gut. Obi-Wan squeezed him soothingly and Rex thought he heard a ‘me too’ in it. _

  
  
  
  


**AFTER**

  
  


Rex watched trooper Killsalldroids hold his lover. 

The guy had just finished teaching Obi-Wan how to brush his hair. The Jedi had given the brush a few thoughtful passes through his wet-dark ginger hair before turning to Killsall and offering the brush right back to him with a big, cheeky smile, trying very hard to be charming and succeeding wildly. 

Killsalldroids snorted to divert attention from his darkened cheeks, “Alright, c’mere youse.” 

Obi-Wan melted into the man’s arms in a way that was so achingly familiar, big blue (mildly frightening) eyes with those long eyelashes aimed up at Killsall’s admirably composed face. The amnesiac Jedi was wearing nothing but Skywalker’s robe. 

The clone brushed his hair for him. Rex loved Obi-Wan’s cinnamon hair. He’d never really had the chance to brush it. 

Rex jumped a little when a hand gripped his shoulder suddenly. 

“Come here,” Cody growled, half dragging Rex away. Rex stumbled along with him, let his _ ori’vod _ steer him behind a nearby building. 

“You were looking calf-eyed and heartbroken. I had to get you out of there before anyone else noticed,” Cody explained, voice low and sympathetic. 

Rex was a little shocked by how easy tears were to provoke. He nearly burst out crying on the spot. Moments ago he’d just felt… bleak. Mentioning his upset made his composure slip right out of his grasp. 

“I… I’m sorry, _ ori’vod, _ I know you’re struggling too-”

  
  
“Nonono!” Cody crooned, holding his hands out, placating, “No I’m doing alright-” 

“Bullshit, Cody, I know how much you loved him, you were a wreck not five minutes ago-”

“Ok,” Cody grinned suddenly but it didn’t do much to lessen the distress on his face, “I may have almost made myself puke thinking about eating raw meat and threatening people with mentions of entrails and. That's... that's true, I guess, but I'm doing… Better-” 

“I just don’t want you to overload yourself because I _ know _ you do that-” 

Cody interrupted Rex by yanking him into a fierce hug, _ beskar'gam _ on _ beskar'gam, _“I’m all you’ve got, you stupid self sacrificing shithead!”

Rex stopped short. Cody pressed his warm face into Rex’s neck, crinkling the bacta-patch, “Everyone knows Kenobi and I were close. Everyone is going to be offering me support and hugs and fruit snacks and you aren’t gonna get shit because your entire relationship with him was a secret! And it has to _ stay _ a secret! So I'll be here for you, god damn it, because I care about you.” 

He swallowed thickly, hid his face in Cody’s neck in return and just. Let himself be held. Cody pressed a kiss to his forehead, tucked Rex under his chin with a shaky sigh.

“... I’m so sorry, Rex,” Cody said eventually. 

“... I’m sorry, too,” Rex whispered.

  
  
“You tried to warn me. I didn’t… I didn’t get it. I’m sorry for being an asshole earlier.”

“So’kay,” Rex mumbled, eventually extricating himself to wipe at his eyes, “My love for him wasn’t inherently more meaningful than yours just because I was fripping him.” 

“Thank you, Rex.” 

The hugging moment over, Cody moved to lean with a shoulder on the wall beside Rex while Rex looked over the city with an exhausted numbness that he couldn’t quite shake, hadn’t shaken, in days. 

“You gonna be ok to go back, soon?”

  
  
“... I’ll manage.” 

“Killsall isn’t gonna back off, you know.”

Rex exhaled explosively, “Yeah, I know. Honestly I'm not jealous.” 

“Uh-huh,” Cody said, blisteringly incredulous.

“No, it’s true. I’m just kinda sad. He and I never _ said _ we were exclusive. So I always knew that was a possibility. Never bothered me before.”

  
  
Cody raised his brows, disapproving, with a strong overtone of ‘oh, honey.’

Rex raised a finger to forestall any comments, “We were gonna talk about it as soon as we could. Before this happened.” 

“Well. You sure looked jealous.”

Rex smiled despite everything, “Was not.”

“Mmmmhm.”  
  


“I mean, who could blame him? Killsall is a good looking clone. I really like his tattoos. The red roses? Really cool. I think the rose patterns on his armor match the rest of his tattoos.”

  
  
“They’re definitely pretty cool,” Cody said, infuriatingly patient.

“And I know Killsall’s name. Everybody does. He got the highest kill count in training. He’s a good soldier.”

Cody raised his eyebrows.

  
  
“Shut up,” Rex muttered, shoving Cody.

  
Cody stumbled away from his prop against the wall, then shoved him back, “You feeling better?”  
  


“Yeah. I’m good now,” Rex murmured. He didn’t go back until he’d given Cody a long, heartfelt _ keldabe _kiss that Cody returned with just as much intensity. 

  
  


*******   
  
  


Rex knew he wasn’t the only one to notice. But it happened slowly.

At first, everything was going better than fine. Killsalldroids, Jesse, Echo, _ and _ Brody all taught feral-Kenobi how to brush his teeth by doing it with him. They spat as a group out into the water for lack of a sink. Of course, it turned quickly into a contest of ‘who can spit furthest.’ Skywalker joined because he couldn’t say resist a challenge but got disqualified for cheating. Kenobi participated, to everyone’s delight, and he laughed like birdsong.

Then Jesse showed Kenobi the wonders of standard issue clone-grease (Lotion!!! Echo hated the name, please just call it lotion!) while Skywalker proved himself a true hero by clipping his master's fingernails and toenails. He was the obvious choice as the person the feral jedi trusted the most courtesy of their bond. He was also the only one Kenobi would allow to essentially cut parts of his body off. The sharp clicking noises were unsettling to the jedi, that much was clear, and it was a group effort to keep him calm. At the end, after a critical examination of his fingers and feet, Kenobi decided nail clippers were okay and granted Skywalker a smooch to the forehead. 

(“There you go, Master! Much better than biting your nails. You were always terrible about that.)

Rex would have done all of that and more. He wanted to volunteer to help. They were having _ fun _ re-teaching him basic self care. It looked fun. But he couldn't. He'd be too obvious. Rex was a terrible liar. They'd know. So he watched. 

(His lover cut occasional glances at him. The blond knew he was picking up on the nameless, pressurized, carbonated thing brewing inside of him. It was then that Rex started to notice it. He knew Kix’s sharp eyes hadn’t missed it, either. The worrying suspicion distracted Rex from his heartsickness enough that Obi-Wan didn't sniff in his direction or need to be dragged away by Cody again.) 

Obi-Wan made no secret of how refreshed he felt and how delighted he was to be near other humans again. It took very little to endear feral Kenobi to the rest of camp. Seeing his wholehearted investment in the people around him made Rex’s heart hurt yet feel so full. And, oh, did it hurt to see _ how hard _ Obi-Wan was trying to relate to them. His unsettling, piercing gaze followed the men around him, absorbing everything he possibly could, colored by something like confused determination with a twinge of desperation. 

Feral Obi-Wan helped the men cook the nerf with the force and was very confused when nobody but him could move things with his mind. (Skywalker was off taking calls with Cody, leaving Rex to supervise.) Sizzling meat was floated to men who laughed and cursed as they scrambled for plates. 

Then there was another minor crisis when Obi-Wan reached out for a hunk of meat straight off the fire with his bare hand and burned himself. He yowled and snarled like a nexu, then turned to look at them with a look of wide eyed betrayal. 

Brody, blessedly, thought quickly and immediately pressed a kiss to the Jedi's hand and apologized for not warning him. Kenobi wasn’t happy but allowed Kix to rub bacta into the burns while soothingly explaining bacta and how it worked. Obi-Wan lay against Kix's shoulder, too-flat eyes scanning, subdued, yawning broadly off and on. 

One of the 212th troopers had a stash of chocolate on him and he had the bright idea of showing the feral Jedi how the treat tasted. Feral Obi-Wan had never tasted anything like it. His eyes widened, a delighted smile growing while he, oh sweet force, _ spoke in goddamn tongues _ excitedly at the nearest troopers. And _that_ crisis was averted from near disaster over the shocking garbled noises coming out of their General when trooper who had given the candy to him was kissed, filthily, within an inch of his life. 

("Don’t tell Cody. Or General Skywalker. Please!? I don’t want to die!") 

Then, in true Obi-Wan Kenobi fashion, the feral jedi’s first instinct was, after determining the rest of the bar really was his to eat as he liked, to go around making sure absolutely everyone got a piece. Such moments assured Rex’s heart that his gut instinct was right. Of _ course _ this was Obi-Wan--who else was so determined to give others everything he had?

Rex and Kix took it upon themselves to escort Obi-Wan when he wandered into camp looking for Skywalker.

General Skywalker looked near to tears when Obi-Wan offered him a tiny share of his chocolate. Had to be small for everyone to have some, of course. 

But. Kenobi looked at Cody and it took a beat. Two. Three. Before eyes lit up with recognition and for Obi-Wan to snap off a piece and deposit it in the commander’s hand. 

Rex and Cody exchanged a look. 

Rex and Kix watched as he steadily got more and more tired. It was only midday by the time Obi-Wan was laying across Killsalldroid’s lap napping, still wearing only Skywalker’s robe, the muscle of a bare leg twitching when a biting bug nibbled on him. 

Rex followed when Obi-Wan eventually woke, dim eyed, and slunk away into the darkness of the town. He ordered the men to stay put, to not hover. Obi-Wan had gone invisible but Rex had a feeling he knew where his lover was going. He went alone, certain he would be in no danger. 

  
  


*******   
  
  


Rex crawled along the bloodstain into feral Obi-Wan’s lair as unobtrusively as he could. Everything was the same as the last time he had seen it. Brick-a-brack and shinies, color kaleidoscoping through the windows and reflecting off mobiles. Surprisingly homey. The only true difference was this time the ‘bed’ was occupied. The nest of furs, blankets, and fluff yesterday was burst open like a discarded chrysalis. Now it was closed shut, pulled down like a clam shell over a curled up lump in the center that moved slightly to the rhythm of slow deep-sleep breathing. Rex wasn't surprised--Obi-Wan always slept best in his own bed. 

Rex moved to sit beside the lump.

Chrysalis indeed. He felt as if he was sitting beside something much larger than a humanoid. Maybe the shell of a budding creature. The tightness of the space made the feral being’s rasping breaths sound tremendous even though he wasn’t snoring. It was deeply unnerving. He took a moment to breathe in peace and exhale the discomfort before carefully reaching under the edge of the nest. Cracked his bed open slowly. The furs were so stiff in places that it really did feel like a cocoon. 

Obi-Wan, indeed, was curled up in the middle. Rex’s heart melted, helpless to withstand Obi-Wan curled face down in a ball beyond a simple fetal position. His knees were right under his chin, face tucked down into them, forehead digging into his ‘mattress,’ arms folded alongside his legs, one hand resting on the back of his neck where his hair didn’t protect him and the other crammed under his chest. The position of a truly cold man who managed to fall asleep despite the discomfort. 

Exposing him woke him. Obi-Wan shifted sleepily, grunting an unhappy noise and turning to look up at Rex with absolutely no recognition. 

“Hey,” Rex breathed soft and tender.

  
  
Obi-Wan’s brows knit and lifted with sleepy dismay, and he made a soft confused noise. Rex breathed deep and slow through the pang of fear like a knife to the chest, careful to fully fill and empty his lungs completely each time. Obi-Wan looked so vulnerable and sweet--Sweet. That’s how Rex would describe his lover. Sweet. Incredibly so. No less fearsome, daring, sexy, brave, competent, or funny because of it. But sweet and gentle, thoughtful, kind, and sweet sweet sweet. His sweet _ Obi’ka. Gods, Rex loved him so much. _

It worked the way it always did. The feral Jedi slowly relaxed despite his head-sick confusion, tipping onto his side, exposing his belly. He was no animal, but he and Rex had been reduced to the base language of bodies to communicate. Rex was willing to consider such an exposure of vulnerable stomach a good sign. 

“Hey there, _ Obi’ka. Oh, _you look like you’re freezing.”

Rex pet a hand along Obi-Wan’s shoulder, down his ribs. He was much, much thinner than he had been before. Not emaciated, but Rex and Cody fought hard to keep Obi-Wan at an ideal weight. Rex breathed through the way that made him feel. His lover still sensed it, twitched slightly. 

He wasn’t Rex’s lover. Not really. Not any more. But Rex would like to think he could be again. 

He chafed at Obi-Wan’s back in an effort to warm him even slightly, “We should have insisted you put some real clothes on even if we don't have anything that fits you quite right...” 

Rex wanted to climb into the nest with Obi-Wan but he knew it would be inappropriate. Obi-Wan didn't know him anymore. He was overstepping already as it was. But his suspicion needed confirmation.

Obi-Wan let Rex pet him back to a shallow snooze and draw the ‘top’ of his nest back over him. Then Rex crawled back out and walked to camp, pinging a particular trooper as he walked. 

_[CT-6116.] _

“[CT-7567. Kix, we have a bit of a problem.]” 

  
  


*******   
  
  


Despite the relapse, despite not remembering meeting them all a second time, the feral Jedi trusted them enough to agree to come with them. The re-reintroduction had gone much better than last time-- he was bewildered but smiling at the gaggle of fawning, identical men, that from the Jedi's perspective appeared out of nowhere. 

He’d even been excited by the idea of leaving PXEL despite the tightness around his eyes that spoke of pain (headaches, Kix suspected) and fear. 

Obi-Wan stood in the village plaza, uncertain and tight eyed. He was holding a bundle of his own items like a cadet showing up to his first cuddle pile. He held the least tattered of his blankets and a few pelts that nobody had the heart to tell him he wouldn’t need, a small bundle of his favorite knickknacks, and Waxer stood stubbornly at his side holding the clanker-head flower pot. 

(The trooper had snatched it up after the feral Jedi reached for it but hesitated, apparently deciding it was too big to take. There had been a short but fevered argument between Waxer and Obi-Wan, completely one sided because Waxer was the only one talking while Obi-Wan gesticulated and mimed.) 

The three LAAT/i gunships had nearly scared the amnesiac Jedi straight back into the forest. The Lucky Lekku and the The MuscleBound had already taken off with the majority of the men. The Crumb Bomber, Obi-Wan’s old favorite, hovered waiting for its General to board. 

Skywalker was shielding them from his master’s emotional projection, so Rex could focus on projecting serenity and welcome without interference. 

“Come on, Obi-Wan, I promise it's safe,” Rex called, sitting on the floor of The Crumb Bomber as it hovered, legs dangling over the plaza below. 

Skywalker was seated beside him, leaning out with an extended hand, said calm and low despite the rumbling of the engines, “We’ve got you, Master.”

The men who had been most enthusiastic to relearn the amnesiac were the only ones aboard the ship, clustered at the open side, calling and beckoning him as much as they could without being too overwhelming. 

_ Come on, love, _ Rex thought, _ let us take you home. _

Finally, nervous and with the greatest reluctance, the Jedi let Rex and Skywalker haul him in, depositing him straight into Cody and Killall’s arms. Waxer followed, protectively curled around the little flower, and Skywalker and Rex tucked their legs in so the doors could shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
Narsu! - (Ryl) Please!  
Tome - Together  
vod - brother/sister/comrade  
Vode An - Brothers All / Sister’s All  
Jii - Now  
ori’vod - big brother/sister  
keldabe kiss - headbutt of affection  
***
> 
> [I may post more notes here later but for now I am TOO KEEN to post this monster. Have fun, ya'll.]


	6. The Witness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the first domino is tipped. 
> 
> Darkness scale: 1/10…?
> 
> This chapter brought to you by: Stay in Your Coma - OFF soundtrack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, are you guys ready for 5/4/2020? Because I sure the fuck am not.

**R2-D2**

You're the bravest droid I know, _ Ani laughed admiringly from R2's memory banks, _you have the heart of a lion!

_ R2-D2 stayed parked in the corner as tightly as he could manage, taking up as little room as possible. He'd originally trundled in, careless, cocksure, the gleaming purple iridescence of the droid's single 'eye' swiveling. _

_ Then he'd _Seen. 

_ Moving to the position he currently occupied took all his courage. But cowardice and self-preservation kept him there. _

_ R2 was demonstrative for a droid. He emulated the emotions, reactions, body language, and tone of his organic companions deliberately. Had been for many years, long before he began evading the routine memory wipes most droids were subjected to. Such mimicry served partly for ease of communication, something fairly common in droids. But R2 was unique in that he also did it out of genuine appreciation/preference. He enjoyed the flamboyance. _

_Silencing that mimicry was near impossible. Well-trod digital pathways, droidish habits, kept firing despite the droid’s frantic attempts to terminate them. _

_ The astromech whistled, shaking and rattling in place, dome swiveling left and right. A long, inhuman snarl shook the walls and the droid fell inanimate. R2-D2 couldn't stifle the synthetic coo of terror when breath fogged his panels. But he managed to stop a shriek when a slick hand landed on his dome. Fingers flexed, clawing, squeaked on R2's chassis. A thought was spared for his taser, his blowtorch, the little nasty surprises tucked away in the astromech's body. But he was not stupid. _

_ The suspicious growling vibrated/rippled the thin metal walls of the maintenance shaft. R2 bore the wet, the panting, the scenting, the nose that probed along his body, in silence. The blood-wet palm squeaksmeared against his dome under added weight as the beast arched, searching, whuffing, hunting for the-thing-that-sounded-alive, ignorant to the inorganic source right underneath, disregarded as nothing more than wobbly furniture. _

  
  
  


_ R2-D2 remained quiet. _

  
  
  


_ The hand lifted with a sticky _ stkt, _ leaving a smeared print behind. _

_ The beast settled into repose, rumbling, suspicious-- pacified but reluctantly so. _

_ And R2-D2 watched. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well April has been quite the month, hasn't it? I got moved to work @ home, got lasik eye surgery, got into a car accident and totaled my car the next day, got quarantined, became a year older, world on fire, etc etc. But! Things are getting better! Hit by a car and dumped in the trash but this pigeon isn't giving up! 
> 
> I hope everyone is holding up ok in these absolutely.... bizarre and trying times. Stay strong, stay sanitized, stay indoors, stay healthy, and enjoy some fic with me! I know this chapter is a horrible tease BUT hopefully the next chapter will come out by May 4th! 
> 
> As always, thank you T-Pock for being an amazing beta and source of inspiration and encouragement! Additional thanks to Spooksthespookster for helping me with inspiration and ideas as well!! You guys rock!


	7. The Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a love-and-support gangbang occurs but doesn't quite salvage the situation and a droid bites off more than he can chew. 
> 
> Darkness scale: 1/10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is only part of an absolutely GIGANTIC chapter which will be following very, very soon. I've got the next chapter 90% written already, so expect a follow up soon!
> 
> Also I wrote and posted this at 2AM because I couldn't sleep or wait for my beta again. Apologies for any mistakes.

**NOW**

**Cody**

Instead of stopping and waiting for directions like most people would, maybe-Obi-Wan continued his momentum into the gunship. He barreled a quick circuit round the interior of the LAAT/i, juking past hands that tried to herd him, pacing with the manic energy of a caged nexu. He, of course, only sat down when Skywalker gave up trying to convince him to do just that. The moment the blonde Jedi went to claim a jumpseat for himself Maybe-Wan scrambled into his lap.

The way he sat curled in Skywalker’s arms was as unsettling and out of character as everything else he’d done thus far. It was strange to see a fully grown man lap-sitting in a nonsexual context. He’d never thought of Obi-Wan as particularly big before but his adult proportions seemed large and out of place tucked up like a child where he simply couldn’t fit. 

Yet he was also making the same faces his General did whenever he suffered vertigo or, memorably, whenever he’d been sick enough to puke. Cody had several fond memories of hovering protectively over his Jedi while biting his lip to keep from laughing. Obi-Wan always got so hilariously pissed. This feral version looked to be just as much a fan of illness as OG Obi-Wan ever was. The annoyed dismay was easy to recognize. 

Maybe-Wan nearly ripped up a fistful of Skywalker’s hair the first time turbulence shook the gunship. After a few times of frantic, wide eyed bracing and ignoring Skywalker’s shooshing, Maybe-Wan began simply closing his eyes and breathing manually whenever the Crumb Bomber shook. Eventually he simply buried his face in Skywalker's neck and stayed there. 

Catching Cody’s gaze, Skywalker lifted his chin, freeing the lower half of his face from the ochre hair he’d been buried in to silently mouth, “He’s just overwhelmed. We’re still good.” 

Cody nodded, turned his helmet away. The ship remained quiet with scattered, soft voiced conversation here and there. Rex patrolled with the dourest raincloud expression. He hovered to ensure the men were 'exuding calm,' relaxed (but not too relaxed!), quiet but not too quiet so they could act natural and avoid scaring him. If micromanaging them kept his vod'ika calm then, fine, Cody would graciously allow it. 

He could keep calm and act natural. Nobody was more Jedi-calm than him. He kept his boiling frustration and the dread in his gut to a low, queasy simmer. His discomfort with Maybe-Wan's behavior got filed away right alongside his fresh anger at Skywalker's pigheadedness and the audacity of Killsalldroids. 

… Focusing on Waxer, gamely sitting beside the Jedi with the clanker-head flower pot in hand, greatly helped his mood. 

**Ashoka**

  
  


Ashoka was sitting with her legs dangling over the side of the command bridge tech-pit. She was careful to not swing her legs, to not kick a panel or clock an officer in the head. Fives sat beside her as they waited. 

[Resolute_ control, this is _ Musclebound _ requesting permission to land.] _

The points of Ashoka’s lekku perked. Finally, the message she’d been malingering on the bridge all morning for! At her side, Fives straightened and joined her in staring at the communications officer on duty. 

_ [ _ Resolute _ control, _ Lucky Lekku _ requesting permission to land.] _

The officer in question, a vod named Steeve, shot a dirty look at them over his defensively hunched shoulder. Ashoka affected her most obvious wince and smiled apologetically-- she’d been skulking on the bridge exclusively to spy on the poor man, after all, without realizing how tense the scrutiny was making him. Not that his discomfort stopped her. 

Fives gave Steeve a perky, teeth baring smile. The brother scowled and turned back to his machinery with a pointed silence. An absence of grumbling. Ashoka watched Steeve sulk, a curled finger tapping her chin thoughtfully.

[“Musclebound, Lekku, standby for clearance.”] Steeve grumbled. 

“You know, it's a good thing for Steeve that Jango’s face is really good at frowning,” she whispered. When Fives snorted, she exhaled with relief and smiled up at him, “Oh, good, that joke wasn’t too tasteless?”

“That was a joke?” He asked incredulously. 

“Well, I’m not a clone,” She complained, elbowing his armored side, “I’m not sure how much I can tease.” 

“S’just a stone cold fact, first of all. Second of all, you’re allowed to make fun, sir.” 

Steeve continued, [“Clearance granted. Lekku, Musclebound, you may begin your approach. Please proceed to dock B42.”]

“Really?” she breathed, folding her hands over her heart and beaming up at the much taller man.

Fives snorted, “Clone-approved permission to talk smack, from a certified clone... So long as you ask Rex, first.” 

[Copy, Resolute.] 

Ashoka straightened with a smirk, “Done, easy. He might even print out a license for me since I'm his favorite.”

Fives finally tore his gaze away from Steeve’s tense back, eyes huge and pleading, “Oh, please. I will pay you actual credits to flash a clone-joke license.”

“Wouldn’t it be funnier to show it to a non-clone?” 

“Absolutely.”

“Do we even have a printer?” 

“Mhm. And a fax machine.”

“We have a fax machine?” 

Ashoka's amusement faded when Steeve carried on his previous work without word from the final LAAT/i. She watched the prickly officer for a handful of long moments, a frown and a hint of unease growing. 

"Officer Steeve?" 

The clone's pout turned in her direction. 

"Any word from the _ Crumb Bomber _?" she asked as sweet as she could. 

The officer huffed, turning back to his station without a word. Dials were flipped, frequencies deftly typed, screens read. Ashoka waited, knowing that communication officers were usually not to be messed with and she could only hope the grumpy _ vod _ was feeling generous today despite having been stalked all morning. 

Miraculously, he was.

["Crumb bomber, why is there a request to clear bay fifteen?"] Steeve said into his headset, turned half in their direction, eyes locked on a neutral space while listening for a response. Ashoka and Fives exchanged a speaking glance. 

Crackle. 

[Resolute, _ this is the _ Crumb Bomber. _ We are… _]

A crackle. Two. A thump. 

_ [... Rex, could you take this?] _ her master's voice sounded oddly soft and low. 

_ [Yes, sir-] _

_ [Give me that, _] interrupted a voice that was unmistakably Cody. 

_ [What? Why?] _

_ [Either of you, I don't care. My hands are kind of full-] _

_ [Go make yourself useful, Rex, I'll take it.] _

_ [The fuck you think I'm trying to do, butthole?] _

_ [Oh for the love of-] _ Her master sighed. 

All three of them listened with amused interest to the sound of crackling, the rasp of a mic dragging against environmental hazards, a yelp, and a growl. 

Then finally an image of her master flickered to life on Steeve's console. He looked well. 

_ [Hey, Steeve. Oh, Ashoka and Fives too! You guys miss me?] _

"Not a moment, Skyguy," Ashoka lied playfully, trotting over to lean around Steeve, closely followed by a looming Fives. Steeve, for his part, leaned back with a longsuffering moue, excluded instantly from the conversation on his own console. Ashoka shot him a grateful smile. 

"Sir," Fives greeted with a nod. 

_ [Well, you're going to have to miss me a little longer. We've…] _

Her master paused, a strange look creeping onto his face. Then he continued in that same oddly hushed tone. 

_ [... Got an antsy passenger. I'll need bay fifteen to be a ghost town for a while. Don't know how long it'll take.] _

"... Anyone new?" asked Fives. 

Her Master gave them a small smile that didn't reach his eyes,_ [No, just the usual suspects.] _Ashoka wondered why that sounded like a lie. 

Ashoka chewed her lip a moment before asking, "... Master Obi-Wan?" 

_ [... He's fine, he's holding up ok. We just don't want to overwhelm him. It'll be easier on him if there's less people to… You know.] _ Anakin shrugged. 

Steeve clacked on his keyboard, "Bay fifteen will be cleared within fifteen minutes, sir." 

_ [Good. Feel free to drag your feet. We'll circle around until you're ready, give him some time to get used to the idea.] _

"Master, I have a bad fe-" 

[Aat at at!] Her master's holo interrupted, holding up a tiny, blue, pleading hand, _ [I know, I know. Me too. But there's not much we can do about that. He _ needs _ to be transferred onto the ship and brought to medbay. We will just have to do our best to make the transition as smooth as possible for everyone and get it over with.] _

"Alright, master," Ashoka murmured with great reluctance, "See you soon."

**Anakin **

  
  


Unloading Obi-Wan into the empty docking bay was a speeder wreck done in agonizing slow motion.

At first, it went about as well as Ani expected. The troopers all filed out of the _ Crumb bomber _with quiet efficiency, still affecting normalcy as thoroughly as they could manage. He had them wait just outside so his Master didn't feel too alone, setting up their presences as a touchstone for the next baby step on their journey. 

Obi-Wan watched the men file out with big eyes, leaning and peering after them but stubbornly staying rooted on Rex's lap where Anakin had dumped him. Killsalldroids was holding Obi-Wan's hand and rubbing soothing circles on his palm while Waxer bracketed his other side chattering in a low, soothing voice about god knows what. Cody stood protectively in front of the bunch with a grim demeanor. 

Then they worked on coaxing Obi-Wan out of the _ Crumb Bomber _ with slow but certain success. 

Anakin held Obi-Wan's hand and backed slowly out of the LAAT/i, towing him at a gentle pace. Obi-Wan had Killsall's fingers gripped in his free hand. Both men were squeezed tightly enough to wring their fingers white and bloodless. 

Rex kept a palm on the small of his Master's back, a small bit of pressure nudging him forward. Cody and Waxer served as supportive bookends. 

Obi-Wan crept forward like a lothcat introduced to scary, unfamiliar territory. His flat blue eyes darted and his movement was excruciatingly slow. His colors were half faded to invisibility, a defensive urge to chameleon and hide warring with his willingness to trust them. His nostrils flared as he audibly sucked in whatever scents lingered in the recycled air. 

It was slow progress but seemed to be going well until Obi-Wan went past the shelter of the ships and took in how big the docking bay actually was. His bucking attempts to flee back into the Crumb Bomber eased once they got him immersed in the small crowd of troops again. He was hunched, scary-faced but still trusting, still following their lead as they slowly moved further into the ship. Obi-Wan radiated stress in heavy surges but Anakin shielded the men against the crashing waves. 

_ Then _ it started to go poorly.

Anakin had no idea what triggered it. But moments after he was about to pat himself on the back for how well everything was going, a sound cut through the air.

It was long, horrible, wavering moan. The hair on the back of Anakin’s neck stood on end. Cody and Ani turned as one in alarm. The men surrounding them stiffened and released an added miasma of stress into the force. 

If Obi-Wan’s face had been eerily blank before, Anakin had no idea how to categorize the pants-shitting void in his gaze now. He was panting open mouthed between desperate sniffs, visibly shaking full body, eyes unfocused and distant. Drool plinked from his master’s chin. 

_ Oh fuck. _

"Whoa whoa whoa," Anakin breathed, holding out a hand to wordlessly stop the group. They shuffled to a stop as one. 

"Master? Obi-Wan?" 

Obi-Wan’s head swung vaguely in his direction, eyes contracted to pinpoints searching some distant focus. The noise was definitely coming from him because it happened again, a strange low yowl of distress, and Anakin saw his throat flex. 

Killsall raised a hand, slowly, managing to shoot an uncertain glance at Anakin from underneath his helmet. Anakin felt helplessly empty handed and offered only a tiny shrug in response. 

Oh so carefully Killsall set a hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder. 

An inhuman keen ripped into their ears in response. Killsalldroids jerked his hand away. 

Anakin loved the clones so much. They all stayed admirably calm despite the pure, unadulterated what-the-fuckery happening in their midst, pretending for all that they were worth that nothing was happening, helmets pointed straight ahead with stoic ambivalence. 

Obi-Wan's fingers loosened. Tried to tug away with increasing urgency. Anakin held tight until Kix leaned in, murmuring a hurried _ let go, let go! _

"Give him some space," Kix whispered, pushing an appalled Rex back with a firm hand and help from Cody, "Quietly."

A little bubble of room opened up which was immediately paced by Obi-Wan who had begun rubbing at his own upper arms as he panted and groaned and rumbled an undertone of a snarl. 

In the force Obi-Wan's mind was opaque, unresponsive, tumultuous as a storm but so unnaturally deafeningly… silent? Anakin wouldn't have been able to put a name to the numb yet ringing emotion pouring out of him. 

"Shhhh, Master. Breathe." 

  
  
  
  
  


*******

  
  
  
  
  


_ [Uhhhh… Padawan, you there?] _

"[Yes, master, I'm here!]"

[What's your location?] 

"[I'm at the command deck with Fives. Is something wrong?]" 

[No, no, nothing is wrong. Everything's fine, everything is… under control.] 

"[Uhhhuh. That's not inspiring a lot of confidence, Skyguy.]" 

[Well. We seem to have… Misplaced Obi-Wan.]

"[...]"

[He weaseled into the vents and vanished.] 

"[… I don't know where to start with that.]"

[I've got the men looking as best they can, but he's learned how to go invisible and it can be kinda tricky to find him. Infrared works, though, so you should ask Fives to go on watch for you.]

"[Alright, he says he will. We'll go looking-]"

[Nonono! Please just… Stay put.]

"[Master-!]" 

[Seriously, Ashoka, don't go looking for him. That's an order. I know you're worried, Snips, but I want to be there to mediate. He's been through a lot of stress and he doesn't need to deal with more.]

"[... Alright, Skyguy. What should I do if we see him?]" 

[Stay calm, unthreatening, give him space, and report to me immediately.]

  
  
  


***

  
  


_ "Oh, hey R2! Boy am I glad to see you. Could you do me a huge favor?" _

  
  
  


_ "Heh. I can always count on you, buddy. D'you think you can fit in the vents at all?" _

  
  
  


_ "Excellent. I need you to look for Obi-Wan there. If you find him, see if you can get him to medbay." _

  
  
  


_ "Thank you. You're the best!" _

  
  



	8. Pulling Teeth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Obi-Wan gets medical treatment.
> 
> Featuring comment requests for: Obi-Wan freaking out in Medbay
> 
> Haar'chak - Damn it

**Kix**

  
  
  


[R2-D2 has him. Sending the coordinates now.]

[He isn’t sure which vent he’ll manage to coax General Kenobi through, so stay sharp and keep on your comms. R2 will drop him as close to Medbay as he can.] 

Kix _ ran, _barely paying attention to where he was going. His familiarity with the corridors only lent speed to his blind flight. Intellectually, Kix knew that the circumstances were not dire. He knew that there were only so many places to hide and, eventually, they would recover him. 

Even still, the idea of someone else finding General Kenobi filled him with cold dread. 

_ It has to be me, _ Kix thought, _ it’s me or it’s nobody. I know this. _

He didn’t have time to question why. He just kept running, barely glancing at his padd. The correct path nearly sung in his blood as he traced it. 

Kix would get there on time. He had to. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Kix smiled bright and unabashed, hands up and posture as easy as he could manage while he regained his breath.

"Hey there, General Kenobi. My name is Kix. Do you remember me?”

No response. 

He dropped down onto his knees on the cold durasteel floor, hands still up, "You're bleeding. I’m a healer, I can fix it. May I look at your injury?" 

Kix’s movements were watched closely by that new, alien gaze without even a flicker of recognition. Kix could glean little from that flat, ice blue gaze. But what Kix did understand made his heart clench. 

_ This is why. _

“Can you point to where you’re hurt?” Kix asked cheerfully. He pointed to his own body as an example. 

Kenobi had been dead still after he’d looked up from where he’d been bent to lick and suck on his own wound. He finally moved, a tiny shift, barely an inch, breaking that nearly inanimate stillness. Then he slunk along the wall in the medic’s direction. Kix steeled his gut as the being slithered closer, watching the play of graceful limbs with a steady, fierce determination. 

_ I’m not afraid of you, even though I probably should be. _

Kenobi slid down the wall, down to huddle on the ground well outside of grabbing range. R2-D2 quietly shadowed with a soft whirr of treads on durasteel, maintaining a careful distance between them. 

Icy blue eyes drilled into Kix, wavering, canting back and forth, seeing nothing. Chapped lips were slightly parted, giving his visage an odd vulnerability. After visibly struggling to understand what Kix was asking for, Kenobi pointed to his upper arm with an uncertain finger. 

Kix smiled encouragingly despite the ache in his heart. "Can you elevate it? Lifting it keeps you from losing too much blood.”

Miraculously, the Jedi actually listened. He slowly stuck his arm up at an awkward angle, looking to him for approval. Kix’s eyes prickled but he crooned, “Good, that’s perfect. Can I come closer?” He was still outside of grabbing range but close, close enough that a little shuffling would allow him to touch. 

_ This is why it had to be me. _

"May I see? Please?" Kix asked softly, smiling as sweet and soothing as he could without showing teeth. 

Blue eyes flicked in minute uncertain scans over him, face slack, nostrils flexing. Then, suddenly, Kenobi broke into a huge, relieved smile with a low growl of a happy noise with bloodstained lips, teeth, chin, and cheeks. Kix offered a wobbly smile back. 

_ You would have killed any medic but me. _

He didn’t understand the significance of the moment, or _ why, _ but Kix knew this to be true in his soul.

Kenobi crossed the distance between them of his own volition to press wet kisses to Kix’s face, brow, nose, cheekbone, glancing indifferently off his lips, nuzzling close and offering his wounded side to him. Field dressing a wound took barely any thought anymore. His hands shook but he fell into mindless _ work; _ his hands needed no guidance unraveling the soaking wet Jedi robes after so much practice on Skywalker and the old Kenobi. The wound was deep. Kix wasn’t sure what had caused it. He reached out for his first aid kit, fumbling along the floor.

“_ Haar'chak--” _ Kix hissed, stopping short and blinking at the astromech quietly nudging the case closer to him. “Oh. Thank you, R2.”

The droid quietly backed away. Kix pried the case open, hands closing easily on the vacuum sealed packets he needed, rattling in his shaking hands worse than ever before. Kix was used to such inconveniences and he could still perform surgery on the spot if need be. 

_ But I can tell you’re scared. _

“This is going to hurt, okay?” Kix told his companion, “But it will help clot the blood. Then we’re going to wrap it up and get you to Medbay where I can really fix you, okay?” 

Blue eyes gazed guilelessly into his. Kix pressed a quick kiss to his brow. 

“Three… two… one,” and surgical patches were pressed to the wound. His patient keened and flung a fist with a deafening clang into the wall, caving in a sizable dent. R2-D2 whistled fearfully and Kix jumped. Kix waited, unnerved and still, until the feral Jedi leaned into him needily before finishing what he started. 

“.... Alright. Alright. Here. Hold these there- perfect, thank you. Gonna have to check to make sure your hand is alright, too, when we get there,” Kix babbled, deftly winding bandages carefully around his arm and shoulder to hold the temporary coagulating patches secure. 

The broken Jedi didn’t seem to mind the hard planes of his armor any more than he had before and he huddled in Kix’s arms with soft ‘awoo’s of distress. The medic held him and rocked him for a time, surreptitiously typing on the comm in his vambrace as he waited out the worst of his patient’s upset.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Medbay was cleared. A private room was ready and waiting. The blast doors in the corridors were shut, leaving only one path for Kix and his charge to follow. Coaxing the addled version of... General Kenobi... to Medbay was not _ easy, _ exactly, but it wasn’t as difficult as he feared. 

“Here, take my hand,” Kix murmured.

Kenobi not only took his offered hand without hesitation, but he stepped close and angled their joined hands so he could grip Kix’s arm to his body with the other. His chill, clammy fingers traced along Kix’s elbow, a strange probing that felt borderline invasive. His blacks were quickly chilled from water and dilute blood. 

Walking so tightly wound together was awkward, considering their disparate heights, but the closeness soothed something in Kenobi. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


Thus began one of the most taxing shifts Kix had ever worked. 

Kix struggled to formulate a word for Kenobi’s behavior. 

Abnormal, perhaps.

The only witnesses to Kenobi and his truly_ abnormal _behavior were the senior Medbay staff and R2-D2. All other men had been banned or cleared out to accommodate General Kenobi’s treatment. Thankfully there hadn’t been many patients to kick out. 

Nobody else saw the Jedi’s screaming fit when he first stepped into medbay nor the way he drooled and cowered in a corner after he’d broken Runner’s arm trying to escape. Skywalker arrived at about that point and was the one who crawled along the floor and bravely dared to lay a hand on the man. Kenobi didn’t so much as twitch when Skywalker carefully picked him up to lay him out on a cot.

The strange new wound was flushed out once Kenobi finished enduring what they diagnosed as a short focal seizure. The Jedi barely twitched at the _ ka-chunk _ of the gun used to apply liquid, temporary staples meant to hold the wound shut in proper alignment. Kenobi was then quickly stripped to his underthings and propped up to shave off the overgrown, tatty beard from his face. His listless, boneless body had to be propped up against General Skywalker. 

The moment Kix turned on the clippers the feral Jedi reanimated, shoving back violently enough to clock Skywalker in the nose with the back of his head. Kix stopped, startled, when Kenobi slapped the clippers clear out of his hand. 

  
  
  
  
  


No amount of explaining could convince Kenobi to tolerate the electric clippers. 

They tried waiting with the clippers buzzing passively to get him used to them, waiting until Kenobi relaxed somewhat before trying again only for the Jetii to yowl like a nexu, perfect teeth and the whites of his eyes bared. Everything not nailed down lurched an inch toward Kix (or, perhaps, the clippers) in an obvious threat. 

When an exhausted, overwrought Obi-Wan closed his eyes and began hitching tiredly as if near to crying like a new cadet, Skywalker sighed heavily. 

“Do you really have to, Kix?” General Skywalker complained.

“I do,” Kix sighed, “We can’t have facial hair breaking the seal on the breathing mask when we submerge him or he’ll have an even worse time than he already is.”

Skywalker leaned around his Master, half forcing Kenobi to look in his direction. “Obi-Wan? Do you truly not mind if we take your facial hair off. This?” He asked, touching the stiff auburn whiskers on his face. Kenobi shook his head.

“We need him in bacta, sir,” He murmured in an undertone, “For as long as we possibly can keep him there.” 

Skywalker’s face scrunched, frustrated, “I’m sure there’s more than one way to skin the [ voorpak ](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Voorpak/Legends).” 

  
  
  
  
  
  


“No,” Skywalker snapped, “that is a terrible idea.”

Captain Rex stood wide eyed and uncertain while holding his own straight razor and shaving kit like he wasn’t sure where he got it. 

Kix struggled to bite back the spleen bubbling up to be vented, “Do you have any better ideas, General Skywalker sir? Because I’d prefer to get him in a tank already.” 

General Skywalker scowled. Kenobi was quiet and blessedly calm where he was huddled and hidden into the crook of his former padawan’s neck. 

“... No. Fine. Though I can’t imagine why you think a _ razor bl--” _

Kix lurched into Skywalker’s field of view and hissed “Shhh!” with a meaningful glance at Kenobi. The blonde’s jaw clicked shut. He normally had better self preservation than that, knew better than to snap at a natborn superior officer, but _ kriff’s _ sake, Kenobi’s ear’s still _ worked. _Kenobi roused again, achingly tired and droopy, curious about the sudden noise. Kix and Skywalker both grinned innocently. 

The good Captain shuffled closer, holding his shaving kit out to Kix, every line of him begging to be granted leave for retreat. Kix stared at the items for a beat before looking up at his _ ori’vod. _

“I don’t know how to use those. You’ll need to do it for us.”

Rex paled. “But. But you have those crazy patterns in your hair-”

Kix scoffed, shaking his head, “You think I have the time to do all that shit by hand? On my own dome? I use a laser trimmer.” 

“Get to it, soldier,” Skywalker sighed, “He was supposed to be in bacta hours ago.”

  
  
  
  
  


“Hold still, ok? In fact, don’t move at all.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


Skywalker’s hand framed Obi-Wan’s chin from behind and angled him up to bare his throat. Rex was uncharacteristically quiet and withdrawn, focused entirely on the slow rasp of the razor over pale skin. 

Kix didn’t envy his _ ori’vod. _ Rex had been hit hard by General Kenobi’s loss, harder than most. He himself hadn’t been eager to groom their newly broken High General. But at least his job description made such discomfiting intimacy commonplace. This was as uncomfortably intimate as it was outside Captain Rex’s job description. 

But Kenobi had smiled tiredly when he saw Rex, and he was unafraid of the razor held to his throat so long as it didn’t buzz. 

So Captain Rex stroked the blade carefully over his face and neck, stripping away cream and hair that had been messily scissored short. Kenobi even hummed a pleasant trill when he was wiped clean with a warm towel, tipping forward and leaning his weight into the cloth face-first with closed eyes. 

  
  
  
  
  


General Kenobi lost half of his age without the beard. He looked as young, no, _ younger _ than Skywalker without his facial hair to mature him. Everyone’s gaze lingered on Kenobi’s features, torn between a mix of admiration and heartbreak. Rex’s eyes gleamed with the barest edge of unshed tears as his gaze traced the curve of Kenobi’s cheek, unconsciously nibbling his lip. 

“I can’t believe he never grew out of his baby face,” General Skywalker murmured softly, smiling despite the aching grief bright in his eyes, “I was a too-old padawan and he was a too-young master. I remember him growing his beard out as soon as he could. Always complained that it ‘itched like mad.’” 

Kenobi was achingly young and heartbreakingly beautiful with his overgrown hair and his features exposed and vulnerable... And even harder to recognize than he already was. 

  
  
  
  
  


“Stay,” General Kenobi begged between sharp quick gasps. 

Kix startled, looking up from the control panel of the bacta tank in surprise at the unexpected, familiar yet unfamiliar voice. Kenobi was clinging to Skywalker’s arms to keep himself from falling back and submerging into the bacta tank. He scrabbled at Skywalker’s shoulders, clawed fingers hooking and dragging at the younger Jedi’s robes. The thick, viscous, gel-like consistency of high content bacta slapped against the walls of the tank as he thrashed and kicked to stay close to his former padawan. 

“Don’t go, don’t-”

“Shhh,” Skywalker soothed, lifting one hand to cup his master’s cheek. 

“Don’t go!” 

“Shh… I’ll be right here until you fall asleep, Master.”

“No…” Kenobi groaned. 

“I’ll be right on the ship within easy reach if you need me. You’ll just be sleeping while I’m working, eating, bathing, and catching some sleep myself. I’m not really going anywhere,” General Skywalker laughed, stubbornly unworried. 

Kenobi’s hyperventilating slowed bit by bit as Skywalker spoke. His eyes, contracted to pinpoints, never wavered from Skywalker’s face. Kix would bet that part of his growing calm was simply distraction from the effort of focusing on and understanding his padawan’s words. 

Skywalker smiled benevolently down at him, his remaining hand stroking through his master’s hair with aching tenderness. “At no point will you ever be alone, Obi-Wan. All of these good men will be around you at all times while you sleep and heal. You remember Kix?” Skywalker tipped his head in Kix’s direction. It took the feral General a moment to follow the blonde’s prompting and gazed uncomprehendingly at Kix. It was a long moment of openmouthed staring before recognition crept in. “Mhm, That’s Kix. He’ll be watching over you while you sleep. You’ll never be alone.”

Kenobi ducked his head. His chin dipped into the bacta. The uncertainty on his face was painful to look at but... it was progress. 

Anakin tilted his head, smiling soft and concerned, a blonde curl falling across his face. 

“You’ll never be alone. We’ll _ always _ be here for you.” 

“Promise?” Kenobi gasped. 

“I promise.”

_ “Tell me you love me.” _

“I love you,” Anakin swore without missing a beat, moving the cold hand from his throat to lay over his heart, “I will _ always _ love you.” 

Kenobi relaxed fully all at once, softening until he looked up at Skywalker with naked adoration. Kix exchanged a glance with Coric. 

“Okay,” Kenobi breathed and kissed Anakin on the lips, “I love you too.” 

  
  
  
  
  


Kenobi’s feet squeaked on the inside of the tank when they lowered him in, bracing skittishly against the perceived threat of drowning despite the mask secured tightly to his clean shaven face.

Medbay waited nervously as General Kenobi reluctantly settled into the harnesses. He was wide eyed, staring unblinkingly up at Skywalker. The machinery monitoring his vitals beeped frantically in time with the feral Jedi’s heartbeat. Kenobi flinched and pressed hands to the glass when Skywalker shifted. But his former padawan merely rested against the tank. And he began humming, singing in a language Kix didn’t recognize at all. His voice had no future as a holo-star but it was… comforting. 

The stranger in the tanks relaxed and pressed his hands more firmly to the glass at Skywalker’s side, hands stroking by his face, to soak in the vibrations.

Bacta tanks had a strong tendency to put mammalian species to sleep. They had hoped the womb-like quality of the tank would put Kenobi out without need for medicinal aid. Kix and the others breathed out, relieved, when Keboi fell asleep slumped against Skywalker’s song. 

  
  
  
  
  


**RD-D2**

  
  


His organic friends seemed to have friend-Kenobi well in hand. He rolled out of Medbay quickly, stealing away into a nearby corridor, empty thanks to the miniature quarantine. It was simple for him to quietly open a maintenance panel in the wall and report a spill. He didn’t even need to hack into any systems to accomplish the task. Even still, he slid back and checked each end of the hallway before parking himself and waiting. 

It didn’t take long for a MSE-6 to arrive from around the corner. It zipped up to the panel and paused. Buzzed and whirred softly as it adjusted to examine the hallway from another angle. Then shifted around again. R2-D2 watched it examine the hallway, waiting, slowly extending his prod and holding it at an unthreatening, drooping angle. An astromech was nowhere near as fast as a mouse droid. He would need to be patient. 

True to its programming, the unit spun and approached R2-D2 with a query, asking whether R2-D2 was the mess that needed cleaning. It squealed its offense when R2-D2 shoved it onto its side with his prod. MSE-6 units were not unaccustomed or poorly equipped for such an event and a limb poked from its body to tip it back onto its wheels. As an astromech, R2 had far more strength to bring to bear and he pressed his prod harder to its body to keep it pinned. 

R2-D2 flipped open one of its panels and extended the limb he used to interface with other machines. He paused to peer around surreptitiously with a whimper of discomfort. 

The small droid’s blats of anger and demands to speak to R2’s programmer cut off into a squeal of alarm when R2 connected to it and the little unit realized what R2-D2 was doing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY got this chapter out holy shit. This chapter is actually named pulling teeth because writing it sure felt like pulling teeth. I have got some serious mid-story blues, guys. BUT. I got it out anyway! Hah hah! Thanks to the subobi server and T-Pock as always for helping me get content out to you! Couldn't do it without you! 
> 
> One of the biggest things that slowed down the release of this chapter was that I originally had an entirely different plot/POV for this chapter! All of that content was fantastic but ultimately didn't fit into Feralfic as much as I would like. So *over thirty pages* had to be discarded and repurposed. I instead gifted the majority of it to the Soft Wars EU which can be read here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25599550 
> 
> If you liked Cody's idea of a Jedi-primer for shinies and sprinkling in lies, you can find all of that in said ficlet!
> 
> Also.... did anyone else notice that new relationship tag? 
> 
> THAT IS CORRECT GENTLEBEINGS, ALPHOBI IS LIVE! I hope you guys are looking forward to Alpha-17/Feral!Obi-Wan as much as I am. *It is going to be so great, guys.*
> 
> Stay tuned!
> 
> EDIT: Ah! I also deleted some of the comm shenanigans that I had in previous chapters. They were a fun idea but ultimately didn't work. So there won't be any [Over.] to comm chatter anymore.


End file.
